Fable
by Sh1 n0 m1k0
Summary: Once upon a time...
1. Prologue

**Fable**

Ask any child who has attended Summer Storybook Time at White Elm Library what they like best about the program, and they will grin at you impishly and tell you that it's a secret.

Tickle their sides and ask again, and they will squeal with laughter and squirm away, shouting about how they'll never tell.

Chase them through the park with fingers outstretched at the ready, and they will scamper over the grass, nearly tripping over their own feet as they giggle wildly.

Catch them up in your arms and swing them around and they'll scream in delight, finally promising to reveal the information that every child who has attended Summer Storybook Time at White Elm Library holds dear.

And then, with a twinkle in their eyes, they will speak.

Ms. Williams has magic.

"Magic?" You say, ruffling the child's hair fondly. They'll squinch their face up at the gesture and stick out their tongues, "What makes you say that?"

They'll scuff their toes on the grass and tuck their hands behind their backs, swaying coyly, then look up at you with large, innocent eyes and shrug. It isn't something that is questioned amongst their peers, it was something that is accepted and adored. They'll plop unceremoniously into the grass and watch the shiny beetle that traversed the green jungle.

Sit down beside them and they will tell you stories of how Ms. Williams makes the books they read come alive. How she can make a bogey disappear with the wave of a hand. How she can make elves and fairies from paper, and can make them dance on the wind. How she calls to dwarves and convinces leprechauns to dance with them. How she encourages them to create their own stories and make their fantasies come true.

"But aren't you a little old for fairy stories?" You ask, and they'll shake their heads firmly. Ms. Williams says that no one is too old for fairy stories, they tell you, Even crusty old Mr. Johnson. You frown at them and they'll study the grass, mumbling an apology. They didn't really mean it. Even if he has icky gross hairs sticking out from his nose. You shake your head and they'll go back to building a beetle-sized barricade with a pout twisting at their mouth.

"Sounds like fun," You tell them, watching the clouds slowly drift by. She is, they will assure you, She's the nicest person around. They'll brighten with an idea and begin to fidget with excitement. Why don't you come with next time? They'll ask, fairly bubbling over with the idea. Reluctantly agree, and they'll clap their hands and beam at you, gushing over how fun it was going to be that you'll see the magic for yourself. Smile at them and push yourself to your feet, and they will follow suit, grasping your hand with their own smaller one and ask if you will buy them ice cream on the way home.

The next day, they will pull you by the hand all the way to the tiny library, only to abandon you to the other adults when they see their best friend across the room. The clamoring of tiny voices fills the normally quiet room, and two harried-looking librarians bustle about, attempting to restore peace. You will notice that quite a few of the children are wearing costumes. There are fairy godmothers, pirates and cowboys. Daring knights, princesses, and witches. There are even a few Batmen thrown in for good measure. A few children still cling to their parent's knees, too shy to join with the rest of the crowd, but unwilling to give up the secret delights of Ms. Williams' "magic".

But there is no Ms. Williams. Numerous voices call out for her location, but the librarians are unwilling to reveal her surprise, only smiling kindly and satisfying their curiosity with vague answers, ticking off the attendance on neat little checklists.

When all is settled, the librarians will tell the children that Ms. Williams is in a special place, waiting for them to go meet her. Excited whoops will break the hushed room and one of the librarians holds up her hand for quiet. They will be going to the park.

Sticky fingers will hold to each of your hands as you aid in escorting the tiny mob down the street. The children chatter excitedly, energy bundling to higher and higher peaks. As you turn the corner and cross the old stone bridge, you see Ms. Williams.

She is much younger than you expected, looking only to be in her late twenties. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, she cradles a small book in her lap, turning the pages reverently. The pale green gown she wears and the way she has pinned up her dark hair with a small crown of dried flowers gives her the appearance of a fairytale heroine, taking a moment of rest on her way to rescue the next knight in distress. The children cry out and break rank, racing toward her. She looks up at the noise and grins playfully at them.

She deftly maneuvers the kids to sit in a circle, hushing them with practiced ease. They sit at stark attention as she tucks the book away between herself and the tree, settling herself comfortably. There is silence for a full half minute as she cups a hand to her ear and makes exaggerated listening movements. The only sounds to pass the circle is the occasional call of a bird or keen of a cicada.

"Can you hear it?" She whispers, and the children begin to listen intently, determined to hear whatever secrets she is bestowing upon them. A few faces begin to screw themselves up in concentration, searching for the hidden sounds. Unconsciously, you strain to hear, as well.

She returns to cupping a hand over her ear for a few moments, "There it is again," She whispers, even softer than before, "Did you hear it?"

A fairy godmother raises her ribboned-drumstick wand, cardboard star drooping, "Hear what, Ms. Williams?"

Ms. Williams smiles widely at her, leaning in as if sharing some conspiracy, "Why, the goblins of course!"

It is quiet again, only now there is the faint sound of cackling laughter on the wind. There is harsh whispering, and you can distinctly make out the sound of a rough voice whispering "Shut up! She's going to tell the story!!"

"I can hear it!" Exclaims a cowboy, and the rest of the children make murmuring sounds of agreement. Ms. Williams motions for everyone to lean in close and tells them a short tale of a goblin she calls Laetherleggs, gesturing largely with her hands, and inciting a few giggles from her young audience.

There are grumbles on the wind mixed with the sound of more piercing laughter. The branches of the tree they sit under sway slightly, and you swear that you can occasionally glimpse misshapen forms under the cover of leaves.

"But that's not who I really wanted to tell you about," She leans back against the tree trunk, and the children quiet once more as she closes her eyes, sorting out her tale before she begins. When her eyes open again, they are lit with an intense fire, and a strange smile curls her lips.

"Once upon a time," She begins, her voice oddly detached, "There was a girl, who's stepmother always made her stay home with the baby..."

Disclaimer: No Ownies.

5h1 n0 m1k0


	2. Chapter 1

**Fable**

The world is filled with stories. Every day, people wake, go out into the world, and create their own. Whether it is the tale of the poor waitress who fends off groping hands and leering stares, or the well-to-do businessman who loses everything dear to him in one perfect moment, stories stretch across the countryside. They twist through space and time, sometimes touching, sometimes joining. Most often, however, they merely cross and never pass near the other again for centuries. They are threads, tangling the world with tales. A gentleman gives his seat to an attractive woman on a crowded bus. A teenage girl screams at her parents and runs to her room to sob incoherently. An elderly couple hold hands as the plane's engine fails. A child is born.

Some say that the stories are what created the world. Some say that stories always repeat themselves, giving them the smallest measure of truth, but can't be trusted when it all comes down to it. Some say that stories are nothing more than wistful dreams only fit for the smallest of children. But no one can explain the prehistoric giant that swims the bottom of the lake or the ape-like creature that wanders the woods. There is no reason for the ghostly touch of dead children's hands while standing alone in a dark orphanage. There is no such thing as fairies. Yet mere insects can cause hurricanes and snow is still the down of angel pillows. Santa slides down the chimney and the Tooth Fairy collects pieces of discarded youth, leaving behind shiny quarters.

Thick tendrils of legends and myths passed down through the ages are deeply ingrained in the very earth. Fairy tales and gossip pass effervescently through the air. People follow along their own cords, unaware of the ties that keep them moving in various directions. Authors create their own intricate tapestries to share with the world. Newscasters recite the latest on prime time television.

Stories have power.

Every so often, stories come together and become one, forming a stronger cord to wrap the countryside. A fable. A true tale that is passed on from generation to generation. A fairy story that exists in every language and on every planet. Fables tend to follow a very similar course with a very simple construction. They serve as both a warning and a reminder, spreading their lesson every time they are spoken of. Life isn't fair. There is always a Prince Charming. Material things don't matter. Love can be found in unexpected places. Never take things for granted.

And across the world, a butterfly flaps it's wings.

ooOoo

_Thirteen years ago..._

The party had been over for hours, streamers and confetti fading into the patterns of the carpet as if they had never been flying though the air in a chaotic display earlier. Sarah looked about the room with her hands firmly planted on her hips, surveying the damages. In her right hand she clutched a pretty bauble that Hoggle had given her.

The party had indeed been a wild one, with more creatures than she could remember encountering tumbling forth from her mirror to join in the frivolities. Miscellaneous articles of clothing was strewn across the room from the fairies that took to lifting her shirts from her chest of drawers and dropping them on the heads of their unsuspecting victims. Letters from her Scrabble game were tossed into darkened corners when the Fire Gang decided that it was boring to sit quietly and began throwing the tiles at one another, inciting a large-scale pillow fight. The feathers were everywhere.

She sighed as the mental list grew longer and resigned herself to cleaning everything in the morning. But even with the absolute anarchy that had been left behind by her impromptu visitors, the room seemed strangely empty. Her eyes were drawn to the spaces left on her vanity.

She had given away many of her things as mementos to her new friends, reasoning that she didn't need them anymore anyway. Hoggle had cradled the music box carefully in his large hands and vowed to take only the best care of it. She was sure that he would. It had been a tender moment as she watched him marvel over the tiny dancer, forever trapped within her gilded cage, right up until one of the goblins somehow kicked her little boom box that she had tucked into the corner and her favorite David Bowie album was blasted through the house – to her complete horror. Luckily, she had managed to turn it off quickly enough that it didn't wake anyone.

Still, there had been one face that Sarah had hoped to see among the revelers and, unfortunately, it was the one face that did not show. It all stood to reason, she mused while clearing off her bed, they hadn't exactly separated on the best of terms. He had been cast into the role of the villain by her own hand, and it was a part that he had played with relish. He must have really been able to sink his teeth in it. But even if he _was_ a sneaking, heartless, conniving JERK, he had allowed her to have free reign over her fantasy. And it was true. He did meet her every whim – as much as the thought rankled.

Sarah sighed again. Why did life have to be so complicated? Weren't things supposed to _stay_ black and white? She supposed that being introduced to such an unstable shade of gray was to be one of her first steps into the adult world.

She turned the lights off. He wasn't coming. What reason did he have to? She had beaten him and turned his subjects against their ruler! Scorned, defied, and humiliated him! He probably never wanted to see her again. But that didn't stop that little niggling desire to thank him for everything.

A low chuckle filled her ears as a light breeze caressed her cheek, barely tickling her nose with a few stray strands of hair. She froze.

"Really, Sarah. You think far too much."

She turned to find him lounging in the window.

"You came."

The Goblin King stepped regally into the room, illuminated by the shadows. He inclined his head slightly, "I was invited."

"I guess," Sarah studied the floor for a minute, "I guess you were."

"I've brought you a gift."

_That_ caught the girl's attention. She straightened, suspicion radiating from her eyes, "What is it?"

"It's a crystal," There was the smallest flash as it materialized to his fingertips, "Nothing more."

"But if I turn it this way..."

He smiled tightly and held said crystal out to her in an eerily familiar fashion, "Nothing more." He repeated firmly.

Sarah hesitated, a million worst case scenarios running through her mind. But if what he said was true, and he _was _being the most sincere that she'd seen him to date...

Ever so delicately, she reached out and plucked it from his hand, examining her reflection in it's curved surface. She grinned at him. He bowed slightly to her in response, his trademark smirk plastered to every feature.

Sarah looked back to her shining prize, and then back to the monarch before her.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome." He turned back to the window, stepping up to crouch in it's frame. He turned back to look at the girl one last time, wild hair lit with moonlight, "Sarah, take care."

She nodded, "I will."

"Good." And with that, he was gone.

That night, while Sarah slept, crystal glowing on the small stand beside her, she dreamed.

ooOoo

_Once upon a time, there was a man._

_There was nothing particularly extraordinary about this man, other than the fact that he was, indeed, a man. He lived simply and plainly on the green countryside, quietly tending his gardens and single goat. Every day, he would rise with the sun, break his fast, and spend the day in the fields. He knew every leaf and bud, and treated them well, receiving bountiful harvests in return._

_Once a week, he would hitch the goat to a small cart and make the long journey to the nearby village to sell his produce. The townsfolk would buy his fine vegetables and lovely flowers and he would, in turn, purchase small necessities before making the walk back to his small stony cottage under the starlit sky._

_He was content with his solitude, finding the townsfolk to be foolish and dull, and preferred the quiet of the wilderness to the bustle of the village._

_Until he met her._

_It had been an uneventful day at the market and sales had been slow. He had been idly perusing a stand selling woven baskets when he caught a glimpse of her. She was weaving a flower chain for the little girl she sat with and smiled easily when a very muddy boy came running with a secret treasure cupped tightly in his small hands. She didn't even flinch when the fat toad was dropped into her lap. In fact, she patted the boy on the head fondly, shooed the poor creature off of her apron, and proceeded to usher the children back toward their respective parents. He lost sight of her as she disappeared into the crowd and quickly placed her out of mind._

_It would be another month before he saw her again._

_She was sitting just outside the village, dangling her legs over the edge of the small stone bridge and tossing bits of bread into the water, smiling quietly as the fish would come and nibble at her offerings. She looked up at him as he came nearer and a wide smile stretched across her face in greeting._

_He walked past._

_He didn't see the determined frown that set itself on her face as he walked by, instead continuing on his usual way, selling his produce and making the long journey home. _

_It wasn't until the fourth month until he truly noticed her._

_The girl herself was rather plain, with eyes of blue and corn-silk hair. But her smile was easy and her temperament even more so. It was not long before the man began an awkward courtship and the girl eagerly accepted his attentions, intrigued by his quiet ways and thoughtful words. Soon enough, they were to be married._

_But little did they know, they were being watched._

_For the Queen of the Goblins was a lonely woman and would often spy upon the world of the Above in order to soothe her solitude. She had long watched the man, enamored with his simple ways and longing for his companionship. She grew envious as she watched the growing affection between the man and the girl, and the jealousy grew in her heart as they wed and wanted for nothing. _

_The Queen watched their happiness in her crystals with growing discontent, resolving to one day have that joy, that _love_, to herself; for she had fallen in love with the man, and resented his fair-haired wife._

_One day, the man's bride approached him with happy news – she was with child. The man laughed and kissed her sweetly and was overjoyed. But the Queen was furious. Desperately she spied on the couple, looking for a way to claim that life as her own._

_As the man would go into his gardens, she would plant the seeds of suspicion in his heart, and whisper tales of the goblins in his ear. She began slips of rumors, sowing them in the minds of the townsfolk, who would in turn pass them along to their neighbors. Carefully she manipulated his heart as its seeds bore bitter fruit._

_The man grew jealous and possessive, finding that his once pleasing wife smiled too much and laughed too easily. He grew wary of who she kept company with and closely monitored who she would see. He became distant and cold, brushing off the attempts his wife would make to cheer him._

_Until one day, when his wife was tending to the goat, belly swollen with life, he accused her of unfaithfulness. The once-happy couple fought, feeding each other's tempers to breaking._

_The words flew to his lips._

_And he wished her away._

_The Goblin Queen appeared before him in a shower of light and sent the woman away with a careless gesture. Immediately the man saw how he had been played for a fool and fell to his knees before her, begging the return of his precious wife._

_The Queen refused, instead offering him golden coins and fine silks, showering him in wealth. He found himself clothed in the finest garments, in a richly furnished home, tended by exotic-looking servants. But the man refused, declaring that the love and faithfulness of his stolen wife had already made him rich beyond compare._

_She offered him power – a world to call his own and to govern as he saw fit. People would cheer as he passed, loving him dearly as their sovereign. Again, he refused._

_She offered him her heart. And he would not be swayed._

_The man found himself standing on a hill in a strange land, Queen hovering near his shoulder. Before him lay the Labyrinth; the sight of it made him dizzy. Once again, the Goblin Queen gave him the option to turn back, to forfeit his wife and unborn child, and still retain the lavish gifts she had bestowed up on him. In the face of his final refusal, she conjured a great clock and gave him a mere thirteen hours to race to her great castle that was nestled beyond the Goblin City in order to recover what was lost._

_Undaunted, he began the journey._

_Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, he wandered the infinite passageways, cursing as the paths changed as he looked away and becoming more and more irritated with the creatures that sought to hinder his progress. But for all his efforts, he did not complete the task._

_The great clock began chiming as he reached the gates to the Goblin City, and it was at the very threshold of the castle where his failure was made complete. The Queen merely smiled a contented smile as he once again begged for mercy, offering himself in exchange for his fair wife's return to the Above._

_The Queen accepted and drew him into her arms, kissing his sun-browned forehead._

_"You shall be my King."_

_The man merely nodded, his heart breaking at the loss of his love and the family that was being denied to him. He followed her obediently, shoring his emotions with ice and stone. The Queen taught the man politics and diplomacy. Languages and Geography. Song and Dance. _

_But most importantly, she taught him Magic. She showed him how to call crystals to his fingertips, how to transform his physical form and how to scry between the veils. She taught him how to weave dreams and simple illusions. He learned._

_As time passed, he grew even more cold and arrogant. His skin paled and his mouth twisted. He forgot the feel of sunshine and the simple joy of love. He became a favorite of the Queen's Court, playing intricate pranks on the courtiers and becoming well known for his cruel games. The Queen took delight in his exotic beauty and humored his ever-changing moods, encouraging him to his trickster status with ever-growing amusement. _

_But little did she know that the Fairy Court was growing weary of her childish games, and were planning to remove her from her coveted throne. They exiled her to the Labyrinth, chaining its fate to her own and cursed her to forever wander it's rocky passages in solitude. She became little more than a legend, the Lady of the Labyrinth._

_The man found himself alone and trapped in a land populated by cretins and surrounded by the great Labyrinth. _

_And so began the reign of Jareth, King of the Goblins._


	3. Chapter 2

**Fable**

Present day...

Jareth glowered at the piece of parchment resting in his hand. Old Man Finvarra was meddling again. Just because he was the bloody King of the bloody Fairies and the single most powerful being in all the bloody Underground, he thought he could throw his weight around in areas in which he knew absolutely NOTHING. Granted, he had been seducing mortal women long before Jareth had even been born (which was a Very Long Time Ago), but that did not give him the right to lecture the King of the Goblins in the finer art of luring girls into fairy rings and finding ways to entrap them into madness. And now the silly _twit_ was making vague remarks regarding attempting to capture a certain special girl for his own if she was such a prize that the very Goblin King would gamble so richly upon her. Oh and by the way, his presence was requested at a Very Important gathering of the Court. Ta Ta.

Jareth had the distinct feeling that he was being laughed at.

He did not like it.

The letter made a satisfying crunch as he crumpled it into a ball and tossed it away. It skittered across the rough cobbles before disappearing under a hedge. Jareth's boots clicked on the stone as he walked toward the fountain, still seething.

Just because the one mortal _girl_ he offered himself to in all his years in the Underground turned him down, didn't mean he was suddenly incapable of doing his job! The Court had placed him to this unsavory position, and over time he had managed to find a bit of pride in it. He had to. If he didn't, he would have gone mad centuries ago. So there was a spot on his record now. So what? He was hurt by the encounter, yes, but certainly not crippled!

Only now, thanks to his arrogant thinking all those years ago, he had to exert unnecessary energy into making sure that none of the Lords and Ladies attempted to steal what _should_ have been his. Sarah was a powerful dreamer. Too powerful, really. With the sheer amount of uncorrupted _belief_ she managed to inspire and cultivate in others, she was truly a force to be reckoned with. Finvarra himself would have caught her years ago if he had only known of her existence. But he didn't. At least he didn't until Jareth's greatest mistake, and now he was charged with preserving her and her talents from those who would abuse it.

He stopped short of the edge of the stagnant water and conjured a crystal, making it dance along his fingertips.

"Ava," He called lightly, "I've come to bring you a gift."

The water bubbled, then erupted as long, stringy tentacles of seaweed rose from the once-shallow depths and wrapped themselves around the statue of some obscure noble from years ago. Dark, green tendrils flopped out over the ground surrounding the fountain, and a few reached out to touch Jareth's boots. He smiled grimly as the bloated body of a woman (if you could still call it that) slowly floated to the surface. The thing's hair was matted and stringy in the water, and her skin held the purplish-tinge of the long dead. Kelp wrapped her torso and slowly drew her upright. Her water swollen body sagged like a rag doll and the thick smell of rotting fish filled the air.

Jareth stepped forward with the crystal outstretched, "Here you are, precious."

The woman's eyes blinked open and the yellowing whites focused on the sparkling orb being offered. She reached out and took it gently (Jareth only shuddered slightly as her cold fingers touched his) and cradled it to her chest.

"Preeettyyy..." Water bubbled out of her mouth as she spoke.

"What news is there of the girl?"

Ava blinked slowly and Jareth could fairly see her mind working through the question. Dead cells always seemed to work so much slower than live ones. Her blue mouth stretched into a grotesque mockery of a smile, revealing pin-sharp teeth set in black gums, "Noo neewssssss of preettyyy giiiiirrrlllsssss..."

"Ava." His hand seemed to travel to the bridge of his nose of it's own accord. It was a bad habit. He'd have to work on that, he thought.

"Majesssstyyy..."

"What news is there of the girl."

The drowned girl frowned, seaweed rustling around her, "Noo neewsssss of preeetttyyy giii-"

"You know to whom I'm referring to, precious."

"Saaarraaaaahhhh..." The slimy tentacles wrapped around his boots as she thought, head lolling back, "Saaarraaaahhhh... saaaaafeeee..."

"Good," He stepped backward, out of range of the rotting green filth, "Ava, I shall be going away for some time. I need you to watch for anything out of the ordinary, and contact me if there is anything that needs to be dealt with. Do you understand?"

"Yeeesssss..."

"Very well," The dead water began to bubble again as Ava started to sink, "Oh, and precious?" He tossed a small object in the general vicinity of the water and a thin green tentacle snapped it up, "For you."

"Preeettyyyyy..."

oooOooo

It was Quiet. Not that the Castle Beyond the Goblin City could ever reach a state that could truly be considered _quiet_, but it was certainly less... active than what was generally accepted as normal. That usually meant Trouble. Hoggle _hated_ Trouble. Especially when it contained a capital 'T'. And _extra_ especially if he was the one causing It, because that was most certainly Not Good.

He peered around a corner, eyes darting, and proceeded to scamper out into the open corridor – silent as a moth. It was never good when it was this quiet. The next turn came quickly, and he skittered around it before pressing his back to the wall and breathing heavily. The clanking sound of a goblin patrol slowly began to emerge from the distance, making him jump. Nevertheless, he was determined. He _would_ get his things back, and that rat Jareth had _no right_ to be taking his properties like that. Even after the little lady had given it to him all special, too!

Hoggle could see the thick, heavy door that led to the room he sought, just down the hallway. Checking to make sure that the way was clear and then checking once again, Hoggle raced down the corridor. He flung open the door and darted into the room, slamming it closed behind him. He leaned against it and struggled to catch his breath. It was really getting ridiculous, but this was the closest he'd come in a week, and he would be _darned_, (No, _damned_, he thought, He would be _damned._) if he didn't get his stuff this time, once and for all.

A rich, thick carpet spread itself under his muddy boots as he looked about the, fortunately for him, empty room. Luxurious bookshelves lined the wall, accompanied by a grand fireplace he was pretty sure could fit Ludo comfortably. But his attention was drawn to the ancient walnut desk strategically placed in the corner. Ah. There it was. Just like the rat to keep something so precious out in the open like that. Arrogant _jerk_. (No, _bastard_, he thought, The rat's a _bastard._)

He padded quietly to the desk, focused on the simple wooden box that perched precariously near the edge. He held his breath as he reached for it, fingers barely skimming it's smooth side when...

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The poor dwarf jumped nearly three feet in the air, losing his balance and landing on his rump. He scrambled to his feet, whirling around in a panic and pointing his finger erratically.

"I wasn't doin' nothin'! You ain't got _no_ right -" The room was empty. Hoggle scratched his head, "Huh."

"Just what are you doing here, Higgle?"

"_Oooh, it's HOGGLE!_" He hissed. An almost imperceptible movement caught the corner of his eye, and he realized who he shared the room with. He visibly deflated, "Oh. It's you."

The statue that had been tucked into an unnoticeable corner of the room, straightened, "My apologies. Hoggle. But really, what _are _you doing? You know what kind of trouble," Hoggle flinched, there was that word again, "you could get into if you were caught in His Highness' private study."

He stamped his foot and scowled, "I don't care! I'm just here to get me property back! And I ain't leavin' without it! Jareth ain't got _no_ right, Ms. Ivory. _No right_!"

Ivory sighed. There was no persuading him. She glided across the floor, picking up the box and delicately rummaging through it.

"Which one is it?" He traced a particularly bright pattern in the carpet with his toe.

"The bracelet." The marble woman scrutinized the trinket closely and gave him a pointed look before handing the accessory to the grumpy dwarf.

Hoggle grabbed it greedily, and quickly secured it around his wrist for safekeeping. She cocked her head at him, "What is that anyway?"

He studied the carpet sheepishly, "... plastic."

"Oh. Well, now that you have it, I suggest you make yourself scarce before you-know-who comes back."

Hoggle nodded and hurried back to the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned back one last time, "You, uh... you won't tell him, will ya?"

Ivory smiled as much as her immobile face would allow, tilting her head slightly, "Not a word."

"Er... Ah...Thanks." He fled the room quickly.

oooOooo

_"Oh, my darling, do come here."_

_The Queen called him, and the man obeyed. She waited for him to approach, seated elegantly upon her curved throne, luxurious skirts billowing out around her. He took the few stairs in stride, bending to one knee before her feet._

_"You called, Your Majesty?"_

_She bid him rise and stood to kiss his cheeks fondly, stroking his hair. She smiled at him sweetly. His eyes held a distant spark of mischief, and that pleased her. He had made much progress since she freed him from that bore of a mortal life all those years ago._

_"I have a gift for you."_

_The corner of his mouth turned, "Your Majesty is most generous."_

_"Come," She pulled his hand into her own and led him from the room, "I shall show you."_

_She pulled him through the ever-changing halls of the castle, delighting in the way his fingers felt against her palm. Yes, he was a fine prize, indeed. The heavy doors opened before her as she entered the nursery and drew him to a rough bassinet. The man looked at her quizzically before leaning down to examine what she had led him to._

_The baby slept soundly, chubby fist pressed against an equally chubby cheek. Ten tiny toes placed on itty-bitty feet. Blond lashes closed against rosy cheeks. A tuft of platinum hair. The man reached out and gently stroked the boy's soft arm with his index finger._

_The Queen leaned over his shoulder, "Do you like him?" She whispered._

_The man smiled a pointy smile, "Very much."_

_"Good," She moved to the window, looking out over her Labyrinth, "Now, I should like to continue your lessons."_

_He looked up at her sharply, "What is it you wish, Your Majesty?"_

_"I want you to turn him to a goblin."_

_The man sighed, he had long ago resigned himself to her whims and fancies; to say no was death. Even if the child was exquisite._

_"If that is what you wish."_

_Concentrating heavily on the charm, the man reached back down to stroke its soft hair. The boy began to stir, and as the man was nearing the end of the spell, he opened his eyes and looked upward at the stranger._

_The incantation froze in the man's throat as he stared down at the boy – this _child.

_The boy with his eyes._

His_ child._

_"Darling?" _

_The man recoiled from the bassinet at the sound of her voice, struggling to remember how to breathe._

_"I - " He choked, "I cannot."_

_She pouted at him prettily, "What do you mean? It most certainly is not a complicated spell."_

_He shook his head wildly, backing further and further away from both the Queen and his son. Too much, Too much, _Too much!

_"I cannot turn him." _

_The Queen's eyes narrowed and she stalked toward him, "But darling, you must. Because I will it."_

_Once again, the man found himself drowning in the Queen's cruelty, desiring nothing more than to lash out, to free himself from this gilded cage, to escape back to the arms of his beloved... but instead he found himself as stone as the Queen drew the boy into her arms and began to bounce him on her hip._

_"Please," He begged as she drew nearer, "Please, do not do this. Let him go home to his mother."_

_Her laugh was musical – the sound made his blood run cold and he backed away._

_"He has no mother. She is dead."_

_The boy began to cry as she continued to walk toward the man. Ever so slowly, his skin began to darken and wrinkle, soft form growing misshapen in her arms. The man watched helplessly as the painful transformation took place. Soon enough, the ghastly creature was unrecognizable as the cherubic boy that had been sleeping peacefully only minutes before._

_"There," The Queen cooed at her new subject, "That wasn't so hard now, was it? Now, what shall we call you?"_

_The man watched in horror as it turned its red-rimmed eyes upon him and grinned with yellowing teeth. It reached out to him with twisted limbs and ragged fingernails._

_"Papa," It cackled, "Papa!"_


	4. Chapter 3

**Fable**

Hoggle skittered back the way he came, vibrant with victory. That rat couldn't keep it from him forever! Shows him it does! Omnipotent, Hah! Goblins scattered as he tore through the throne room. The sooner he got out of there, the sooner he could celebrate properly. He punted a random chicken across the room.

He hit the door running, throwing himself against the wood.

And promptly found himself thrown back on to the hard stone floor. His goblin audience shrieked with laughter as he struggled back upright and dusted off his trousers. Odd. He tried the door again, this time pushing as hard as he could. He even knocked.

It didn't budge.

It WAS. NOT. FAIR!!

"OooOOOoooOO!!" He began throwing a fit, kicking at the door in a blind fury and shouting curses and insults at the door's mother, who had done nothing to deserve such treatment. He stomped, and wailed, and screamed, and growled, and flailed, and punched, and kicked, and jumped until he was rolling around on the ground beating the air with his fists and wildly kicking his legs. The last time he was this angry was back when Sarah wouldn't stop calling him 'pipsqueak.' So involved was he with throwing his tantrum, that he didn't notice a small mouse-like creature race to his jewel pouch and squirm inside.

"_Aaaarrgh!" _With one final spasm, he finally lay exhausted on the filthy floor, breathing heavily and twitching occasionally.

"Is something troubling you, Hedgewart?"

Jareth. Damn him.

"'Course not."

"Funny. Because for a moment, you seemed most upset."

"Why'd I be upset?" The way that the rat stood at his head was disconcerting. It was one thing to be head height at those god-awful tights of his, but to have to look up at them... bleh. "I ain't upset. I ain't got nothin' to be upset about. And it's _Hog-gle_."

"As you say, then. And get off the bloody floor. You look ridiculous."

Ah. So he was in one of his moods then. Hoggle hoisted himself to his feet as His Majesty strode to his throne and sat in it, slouching like no one's business. The dwarf brushed the straw off the seat of his pants, hitching up his trousers and readjusting his belt.

"Well, ah... I guess I'll just be goin' then..."

"Hoggle."

Uh-oh.

"y-yes?"

Long legs crossed, then uncrossed as His Majesty leaned back, but then visibly decided that forward was better, More urgent-looking. "I have a request to make of you. And don't try to weasel out of it this time. I don't have the patience for it."

"Ah... right," Hoggle scuffed his toe on the floor. This wasn't going to end well. He could feel it in his bones. And water, but he didn't like to mention that in polite company.

"Good," The Goblin King reclined back in his throne one more time, "I shall be taking a short leave of absence, and I require you to keep the castle from being torn to pieces."

"Er..."

"Therefore, you are not to leave the castle until I return, although how you got here in the first place, I don't want to know."

"But wait a minute-!"

"Ivory will be here with you, and if I come back and find out that not only have you allowed the goblins to pull the place apart – they've burned it down, as well - it'll be straight to the Bog with you. For real this time."

Hoggle blinked. He really meant it this time?

"So I have spoken, and so it shall be done. Understood?"

Hoggle blinked again. He never really meant it! It was always just supposed to be a ploy to make the runners panic! What did he mean he meant for real?!

"Good."

The Goblin King stretched, reminding Hoggle of a cat he once found and cared for – until one of the goblins ate it, of course. His brain was working overtime as he tried to comprehend just exactly what happened and what was expected of him as His Majesty slipped out of the room. Until man stuck his head back in through the doorway.

"Oh, and Hoggle?"

"y-yes?"

"What have I told you about breaking into my private chambers?"

"Er..."

ooOOoo

_Ten Years Ago..._

Sarah frowned at the textbook. Mathematician, she was not. Calculus, she decided, was a creation of the Devil, and not worth the two-hundred dollars that she was forced to spend on the book with it's accompanying study guide. Trying to learn a different language was always difficult, and anything remotely math related was _always_ a different language to her.

Besides, the end of the pencil she was chewing would appreciate a break.

Rod Stewart crooned softly from her computer as she used old receipts from the cafeteria to save her spot in the book. The notebook closed with barely a whisper, pencil tapping on the cover.

Below her window, the world went on. She leaned back in the hard wooden chair that the dorm provided as she watched students wander in and out of the building – the ones leaving carrying the obligatory backpack and walking with a mission. Like a hill of ants, she decided, swarming to and from class, carrying huge chunks of information home on their backs, only to try and digest it once you got back to your room or the library or the den or the study area of your choice.

She never did like the college life. It seemed to be too full of people with way too much drive and no imagination, when she had too much imagination and not enough drive. The professors were arrogant, and the TA's were mean. But she tried anyway, because the people she met were fascinating.

A police siren sounded in the distance and she sighed. Maybe if she switched subjects, the numbers would fall into a more coherent jumble when she got back to it.

Across the room, the phone rang.

"You don't have a cell phone?!" Mona had screeched, "What is _wrong_ with you?!"

Sarah had laughed, "Nothing! I just don't see the point of having a whole 'nother phone when there's one that works perfectly in the room that I don't have to pay for!"

Her roommate had snorted at that, "You're nuts, you know that?"

The phone rang again.

She hauled herself up from the chair. If it was another telemarketer, she would scream. It picked up mid-ring.

"Hello?"

"Sarah?"

Sarah smiled, "Hi, Dad."

"Hey, Honey! How are you?"

"Surviving. How are you? How's Toby?"

"Ah... Toby's fine. I was just wondering... when are you coming home next?"

"I wasn't planning on it until after finals. Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Honey! I was just wondering... that's all."

Liar. She frowned, "Dad, really. What happened."

He sighed over the line, "Karen left."

"What?"

"She -" He sounded tired, "She walked out last night. Said something about not being able to 'deal with it' any more and 'wanting her life back'– whatever that means," His voice grew old, "I think she was having an affair."

"Wha- How's Toby?"

"He's a little shook up, but I think he'll be alright. I was really hoping that you'd be able to come back before December, but school's important. Just forget that I asked."

He had never sounded so rundown before. Even when Linda had left, he still had a spark of life around him. Sarah shook her head, "But I can't – How are _you_?"

"I'll live. I've done it before."

Oh. There was _no way_ she'd be able to study now. Mentally she ran through bus times and grabbed a backpack, throwing some clean clothes into it. There was no way she was going to leave her family high and dry at a time like this. And no snooty professor was more important than her little brother.

The crystal sitting on her desk back home began to pulse.

"Daddy, I'm coming home."

OOooOO

_He retreated into a bottle._

_  
The amber liquid swirled in a hypnotizing pattern as he watched the light of the fading sun filter through the glass. He drank deeply._

_The Queen had insisted on having that... that _thing _nearby her every waking minute. Yet every time he looked at it, all he could see was the memory of that perfect infant that it once was. He could still feel the softness of the child's skin._

_He drank._

_As a matter of fact, he could still feel the softness of his wife's skin._

_He drank._

_He always had liked the Library. It was quiet – Her Majesty didn't allow the goblins into this one room – and the musty smell of ancient books was soothing. He had torn the place apart in a desperate attempt to undo what the Queen had done, but the magic inherent in the books themselves made it as if nothing had happened. He was actually quite disturbed when the books that he was finished with began re-shelving themselves. _

_It was a wonderful room._

_He drank._

_The crystal decanter poured easily into the empty glass, casting its alcoholic spell._

_He drank._

_The Queen burst into the Library._

_"Where is the boy?!" She screeched._

_The man didn't look up from his glass, "What boy?"_

_Her fury was magnificent. She rounded on him, slapping the brandy from his hand and gripping his chin with talon-tipped fingers. Her eyes burned._

_"You. Know. What. Boy."_

_His expression was jaded, "I don't know what you're talking about."_

_She screeched in frustration, pacing the room angrily, "Don't you know what I have done for you?! I've given you life! And you repay me with this?!"_

_The man was silent._

_"I've saved you!"_

_"I was happier before," He murmured._

_She heard._

_Paled with rage, her hand flew through the air. His lip split._

_"Do you know why you were unable to turn him?" She hissed, "You are _weak. _Weak and useless. And if you will hide my toys, I shall simply make more!"_

_The man was emotionless as she stormed from the room. He retrieved his glass._

_And poured another._

_Then quietly and alone, he raised it high in a toast._

_A toast to the torn bit of paper tucked away in his breast pocket._

_The bit of paper with the only charm to reverse the Queen's effects._

_The boy was safe._

_He drank._


	5. Chapter 4

**Fable**

One week ago...

Sarah balanced the brown grocery bags on her hip precariously as she fumbled for her keys. Her father's car wasn't in the driveway yet, and with a bit of luck (and a bit more coordination, she thought darkly) she'd be able to have dinner hot and waiting for him by the time he got home. Leaves crunched under her sneakers and the key slid obediently into the lock. She manhandled the bags back into her arms and entered the dark house.

Dropping the keys next to her purse on the kitchen table, she settled the full bags on the counter and proceeded to empty the groceries into their respective places. The blinking light on the answering machine caught her attention, and she took a second to hit the playback button.

"Hello? Hellooooooo! Sarah? Are you there? Saraaaahhh!! You promised that you'd help me with my costume on Saturday! Where are yooooouuuu? Call me baaaaack!" Toby's distinctive whine ended with an electronic beep. Sarah smiled to herself as she moved a package of Oreos to the kitchen table. That brat.

"Ah, yes. This message is for Ms. Williams. I am calling her in regard to her recent application for the open position..." Beep. With the press of a button, it was deleted. The man had managed to finally get a hold of her, and she had firmly turned him down. That application had been turned in approximately a month ago, and she had long since secured employment at the local library. The desk job had seemed very tempting weeks ago, but ever since she began directing the children's programs, the idea wasn't as inviting.

There was a clatter of falling pans behind her and a childish giggle perforated the air before the next message began.

Another crash forced Sarah to abandon the machine and turn to face the wreckage. All the pots and pans that had been stored under the counters had been pulled out and strewn across the kitchen floor. Drawers were thrown open and miscellaneous cooking utensils were dumped in the sink. The grocery bags were torn and a leaking bag of rice was slowly draining its contents into a pile on the floor.

Beep.

More high-pitched laughter was heard as she resignedly began to pick up the mess.

"Robert, this is Karen. I just wanted to remind you that you're picking up Toby at school on Friday and I'll be there to get him after school on Monday. You _did _remember that it's his weekend to stay with you, right?..."

"Yeah, yeah. We remember," Sarah muttered as she started to sweep up the pile of instant rice, "Not like you give us any chance to forget, you old baggage." '_Not that we ever want to.'_ She added mentally.

The machine beeped that it was finished and went back into a blinking quietude. The only sounds left in the kitchen was the almost-silent swish of the broom and the cackling that had yet to stop.

Sarah scowled. It was unfair. Ever since she had come home, those damned goblins had taken to following her around and causing chaos wherever they went. It had been fairly easy to ignore them for some time, but as each prank began to get even more terrible than the last, she was forced to acknowledge their existence and start calling them to order. Unfortunately, in exchange for their silence, she had to put up with random explosions of mayhem every so often. Which meant she had to occasionally come up with split second explanations for why the entire roll of toilet paper was currently plugging up the bathtub's drain, and why her father's briefcase occasionally ended up in the freezer.

_He_ probably put them up to it, too. Jerk.

The rice slid easily into the dustpan and the kitchen was quickly put back to rights.

The small package of Oreos was missing when she turned back to the table. Sarah sighed.

"I bought those because I'm PMS-ing and just had a horrible day at work. Now, I've never complained when you've eaten all the peanut butter or drank all the milk, but so help me God, if I don't get at least ONE of those cookies by the time I count to five, heads will roll." She took a deep breath and began the count.

By four and seventeen-eighteenths, a small, gnarled hand appeared from underneath the table, grasping a chocolatey offering.

"Thank you," She took the cookie graciously and returned to unpacking her groceries.

"Maydee?"

"Hm?"

The small goblin leaned down from his spot on top of the refrigerator, "Will youse tells us a story?"

"Why don't you go bother His Majesty?"

"He's busy," The goblin wrinkled his pointed nose, "And we's not s'posed to leave youse."

"And just _why_ aren't you supposed to leave me alone?"

"B'cause," He picked at a nostril, "B'cause we was told not to. Tell us a story?"

It was always like this. Ever since she gained her "little shadows," they'd always want some kind of entertainment from her without offering any information as to why she suddenly had "little shadows". She frowned, pulling cans of bean sprouts and water chestnuts from the pantry. If she remembered right, she just might have the things to make chop suey.

"What kind of story do you want?"

"A magic story!" A goblin popped out of the cookie jar.

"A goblin story!" One appeared on top of the curtains.

The oven door dropped open, "A happy story!"

The microwave, "_The _Story!"

"Yes! Yes!" A chant was taken up under the kitchen table, "The Story! The Story!"

Sarah found herself being herded along by dozens of lumpy hands, pushed into the living room where she was deposited on to the couch, sandwiched between the goblins Bubl and Sqeek. The goblin Aelst climbed to a spot of importance on the ottoman as even more of the gruesome creatures piled on the carpet. Upstairs, the crystal beat faster.

"Once upon a time!" He shouted over the squabbling audience. This, of course, only created even more chaos as each goblin began shushing his neighbor and shoving when he was shushed back. Sarah struggled to stand up, protesting that she didn't have time for this, but was weighed down by dozens of furry bodies instead. When the noise died down, Aelst began again.

"Once upon a time, there was girl, who's stepmother always made her stay home with the baby..."

ooOoo

_There were strangers in the castle. The man watched with bleary eyes from shadows as the dark horseman was escorted to the throne room. The Queen scowled when she saw her visitor, instead turning to her newest acquisition – a teenage girl who had given herself to save her sister. She ran her long fingers through the girl's hair, pulling it up into an intricately braided crown._

_"You are a long way from home, Majesty."_

_"As are you, if I recall correctly," He pushed the hood back from his shoulders, revealing golden curls and a shining face, "I am here because you have failed to pledge your fealty. Again."_

_"I am outside your jurisdiction, Little King," She stood solidly against the golden figure, "I ask you politely to leave my kingdom."_

_Finvarra chuckled, "You think that just because you have your precious maze and living playthings you can keep me out? You presume much, girl."_

_"I created this land, sir. It is not of your concern." Her voice was a whip, "Get out."_

_"Nevertheless..." The Fairy King spread his hands wide and turned on his heel, storming out of the throne room. As he passed the man's hiding place, he glanced over and nodded in acknowledgment._

_The man met him in the stables._

_"So you are Her Majesty's toy," The Fairy King snorted as he saddled a black horse with red nostrils, "And is _your_ name?"_

_He stopped for a moment to think of all the things that he had been called during his tenure with the Queen, "I don't think I have one."_

_"What does she call you then?"_

_"Darling."_

_Finvarra's laughter was honey to hear, "Well, don't expect me to call you _that."

"_Then what _will_ you call me?"_

_"Arrogant."_

_The man frowned, "What was your purpose of coming here?"_

_"That is none of your concern."_

_"If it's of a great enough importance that Finvarra, himself would ride here, I would care to know."_

_The Fairy King stopped and looked over the bulk of the horse, staring hard into the man's eyes, "You know my name."_

_"My grandmother once told me stories of you."_

_A slow, predator's smile spread, "Did she now?"_

_It was unnerving. "Yes. A long time ago."_

_"And was she wrong?"_

_Looking into those flinty eyes, the man lost his tongue. Finvarra smirked with self-satisfaction and mounted smoothly._

_"You tell that _precious_ Queen of yours, that if she does not surrender, I will take this land. One way or another." _

_The man stepped back._

_"Oh, and Jareth... You and I shall be allies someday. Mark my words."_

_The red dust was choking as he sped out on to the countryside, leaving the man behind._

_"Jareth," The man muttered, rolling the taste of it on his tongue. His smile was positively wicked._

_"I like it."_

_And with a new vigor in his eyes and a delightful little plan in his mind, Jareth stepped into the sunlight._

_When he reached the throne room, the Queen was fussing with the folds of linen she had draped about the girl's shoulders. The girl looked up at the man with dead eyes. The Queen stepped back to admire her work._

_"She is lovely, isn't she."_

_"Indeed she is," He approached the Queen from behind, sliding his arms about her waist and placing a light kiss on her ear. She turned in his hold to lay a gentle hand against his pale cheek._

_"This is unexpected, Darling. I thought you should never forgive me."_

_The man merely smiled a dangerous smile. She smiled back._

_"Well, we wouldn't want our newest subject to muss all my fine work now, do we?" The Queen snapped her fingers before reaching around the man's back to hold him close. Jareth watched over her shoulder as marble crept up the panicking girl's form, leaving naught but a solemn statue where living flesh once stood. He was sickened._

_The Queen kissed his cheek and flounced from the room, leaving the man alone with the her newest knick-knack._

_"Jareth," he muttered, "My _name_ is _Jareth._"_


	6. Chapter 5

**Fable**

_**Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young woman, whose stepmother always made her stay home with the baby. And the baby was a spoiled child who wanted everything for himself, and the young girl was practically a slave. But what no one knew was this, the girl's belief in the fantastic was extraordinary, and this gave her certain powers.**_

_**For while she was mocked for leaving out saucers of milk and fine suits of clothes on the days of the dead; the dishes were always drained dry and her luck never seemed to falter. But her stepmother was not a superstitious woman and her cruelty toward her stepdaughter was well known. She played mean tricks on the girl, making her walk to the village bazaar for hen's teeth and the eggs of a rooster, then scolded her hotly for her inevitable failures. The baby would smile and coo until the girl drew him into her arms, and then he would scream in her ears and pull at her long red hair. Her pale skin was reddened from his fists and nails; He tore her best gowns and demanded her attention every waking second.**_

_**But still the girl carried on, truly believing there were leprechauns hiding in the rosebushes and that there was a nix in the millpond. She would listen with rapt attention at the feet of old midwives, absorbing the legends and fairy tales that they would swap while stewing the week's laundry. Only the harsh words of her stepmother could ever make her resent the time she spent in the world of her mind.**_

_**She imagined that somewhere, there must be a land where all these wonderful creatures live, and that someday, she would find it and never return to this drab existence. It would be a beautiful land, filled with loveliness and all that was wicked would never touch it. She alone would be able to walk it's soil unless a person could pass her simple tests. She would be admired for her gentleness and sought after for her wisdom. **_

_**Then her ears would be boxed. She would be chastised for her daydreams and given another impossible task to complete.**_

_**One night, when the baby had been particularly cruel to her, she collapsed on her small pallet by the fire and wished that such a place **_**did****_ exist and that she might escape to it. She wished that she could be taken away from this awful existence – saved from her life._**

_**Right.**_

_**Now.**_

_**When the girl woke the next morning, she was in a bed of the softest down with silken sheets. She was dressed in a gown of velvet, and her head rested against the sweetest feather pillow. The room was positively sinful in its luxury and her eyes were dazzled with beauty.**_

_**Confused and disoriented, she stumbled from the room into the cold stone corridors of the castle, seeking someone, anyone, who could tell her where she was. **_

_**She found **_**him.**

_**He groveled at her feet, begging her forgiveness and calling her 'Majesty,' blubbering and stuttering and making a general fool of himself. She quieted him quickly, inquiring as to whose castle she was in, and which land it was in.**_

_**"Why," He said, "It's **_**your****_ castle, Your Majesty. You've created it. You've created everything here."_**

_**He led her to a window and she looked out upon her new kingdom, witnessing the slow growth of a mighty Maze and the quick construction of a shanty town at the base of the castle. Beautifully plumed birds shone against the sky and blue seas shimmered in the distance.**_

_**"If it please, Your Majesty," He simpered, "Your subjects await..."**_

_**She followed him to the throne room and found it filled with all the beautiful creatures that she had only dreamed of. They all fell to their knees at the sight of her.**_

_**"Long Live the Queen!" They shouted.**_

_**And the girl was pleased.**_

_**As time went on, the girl grew bored and lonely, and her discontent was reflected in the world she had dreamed into existence. The once-beautiful creatures grew dirty and ragged, truly becoming the goblins that she had named them. The land grew dry and dusty and the Great Labyrinth became treacherous and a danger to all who traveled it's many corridors.**_

_**And the Queen was pleased.**_

_**Yet the Queen was still a lonely creature, whose only delight became the mean pranks and the unadulterated cruelty that the goblins would indulge upon. She would cast spell-traps on her subjects and laugh with glee as they suddenly found themselves in a foreign part of the Labyrinth. She created oubliettes to place things in, and she thought herself quite clever in the making of a foul swamp – charming it so that it would stink until the end of time – and directing the placement of trapdoors in the solid stone walkways.**_

_**On the darkest nights, she sent her goblins to the Above to steal the screaming children and replace them with changelings. She would charm and spell those that were claimed, adding them to her goblin armies or turning into servants in her cold castle. The few that dared attempt to reclaim the lost sons and daughters were abandoned to the tender mercies of the Labyrinth, where they would wander until they grew mad. Those who sacrificed themselves out of love for the ones who were stolen were enslaved.**_

_**Until one day, when she was watching the Above in one of her crystals, her attention was drawn by a man.**_

_**There was nothing extraordinary about this man, other than the fact that he was, indeed, a man...**_

_**And she wanted him.**_


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: The opening paragraph is taken directly from "Labyrinth" the novelization of the film. I only took a few words here and there to make it a touch smoother. Thank you.

**Fable**

_"Outside the dark window, the white owl had been perched with his claws hooked on a branch, watching and waiting. Now he swooped away over the park, on silent wings, up toward the full moon. Nobody saw him, white in the moonlight, black against the stars."_

Mouths hang open in awe. Ms. Williams smiles, eyes twinkling.

"Now, we've finished a bit early today, so why don't you go play until your parents all come to get you, hm?"

A shout rises and the children scatter, eager to get as much out of the few minutes that they have as possible. Some begin to re-enact the story that Ms. Williams just told, eagerly claiming roles. Soon there are four Goblin Kings and six heroines, and the great confrontation is reduced to chasing each other around and shouting.

Ms. Williams removes herself from her spot at the base of the tree and dusts off her lap. Delicately, she bends down to retrieve the book she seemed to be reading earlier and slides what you believe to be a bookmark between it's pages.

An acorn falls from above, hitting her solidly on the back of the head. She looks up and scowls furiously. The shadows on the branches dance manically.

The Heroines race by, shrieking with excitement - Goblin Kings close behind. Ms. Williams laughs as they begin playing cat and mouse around her and the tree.

You grin as she manages to extract her self from the mess and walk nonchalantly toward the stepping stones that crossed the shallow creek. Up on the stone bridge, the rest of children are playing "Billy Goats Gruff."

"Trip-Trop, Trip-Trop!" They yell, approaching the child who is 'It.'

"Trip-Trop! Trip-Trop!"

You begin to walk toward the stepping stones, intending to talk with Ms. Williams about how the children claim she has 'magic' and what a talented storyteller she is. 'You have no power over me,' You think. What a great line!

And then you hear it.

It's barely noticeable over the excited shouts, but it is still there. A deep, bass rumbling, emanating from under the bridge.

**TRIP-TROP.**

The shadows begin to move. The branches of the tree start to shake. A small, furry _something_ drops from the branches and tears toward the tree line, disappearing in the greenery.

**TRIP-TROP.**

Children scream as the once-steady bridge begins to tremble, and they race to solid land.

**TRIP-TROP.**

A thick shape begins to coalesce from under the stone, lumbering forward into the sunlight.

**TRIP-TROP.**

Your breath catches in your throat as the troll emerges. It's covered with coarse black hair, knuckles dragging in the water. It totters forward on bent legs, hauling it's huge torso forward. Wide shoulders barely clear the opening.

**TRIP.**

There is screaming everywhere as panicking adults attempt to gather the terrified children and get them away as quickly as possible. Ms. Williams races toward one of the Heroines, who is frozen to the spot.

**TROP.**

Sharp, yellow teeth glisten in the sun as it steps heavily toward the woman in the pale, green gown. She manages to reach the girl and grabs her hand, inciting her into movement. The girl runs.

It reaches out for Ms. Williams with thick fingers.

Suddenly, long strands of kelp shoot up from behind and wrap around the woman's torso. You watch in horror as Ms. Williams is jerked backward, only to disappear under the water's surface with barely a ripple and a surprised yelp.

The creature looks around, confused at his prey's sudden disappearance. Behind him, the water froths.

Frustrated and angry, it raises it's head to the sky and lets out a howl. You hurry toward the nearest gathering, helping to usher the children away from the _thing _before it decided it wanted someone else. Children sob, demanding to know what happened to Ms. Williams. You don't know what to tell them.

Something rises from the creek, drawing the attention of the monster. The beast lumbers toward it, roaring terribly. It lunges at the _thing_, tackling the body and they both are dragged under the shallow water. It is quiet for a moment.

Then the sickly sweet scent of peaches permeates the air.

Dazed, you shake your head to clear it of the sudden fog. There is a book on the ground. Dimly, you squint at the faded title on it's red cover, and upon picking it up, a thin mirror slips out from between it's pages. 'Labyrinth'. You've never heard of it.

The child tugs on the leg of your jeans.

"What is it?" You ask.

"Where did Ms. Williams go?"

You think hard for a moment.

"Who's Ms.Williams?"


	8. Chapter 7

**Fable**

_Green, Green, Silvery Green_

_See the Flotsam floating White_

_All lit up with Silvery Light!_

_Green, Green, Silvery Green_

_Oh, Mr. Sun, Sun_

_Mr. Golden Sun_

_Look at all the streaming beams_

_Water, Water, Everywhere_

_No Air, Can't Breathe_

_Can't Breathe, No Air_

_Drowning in the silent Deep_

_How do the Mermaids do it?_

_Splish Splash_

_Splish Splash_

_How pretty it all is!_

_See the lovely, shiny stones?_

_Lovely, Lovely, Look at the Green_

_Green, Blue, and Aquamarine!_

_Splish Splash, Splish Splash_

And not a drop to drink...

ooOoo

She was dying.

ooOoo

Once upon a time, there was nothing.

And then the story began.

ooOoo

There was light.

ooOoo

They stare at the waterlogged body that was thrown haphazardly on the stones.

"Wotcha tink et eez?" Says one to it's neighbor.

It shrugs, "Donno. Whatchu tink?"

The first picks up a stick and approaches carefully. It jabs the sharp end into a soft part of body's side once, then twice. It shakes it's head, "Donno."

"You tinkin' we find bossman?"

"Bossman know wha' to tink."

"Yep," The second one scratches it's head, "Ain't bossman gone-bye-gone nah?"

"Yep."

"Den who we tellin'?"

"Donno."

The woman moans quietly, causing the two to jump.

"We'n ta do sometin'."

They look blankly at each other. The second one snaps it's tiny fingers.

"We tellin' da dwarf. Dwarf probbem nah."

ooOoo

Skud had never done anything wrong in his life. Except for the time when Skid and Skad bajillion gazillion goblin bog dared him to steal His Majesty's tights and hang them from the chandelier in the ballroom. Or maybe that time when he accidentally leaned against that One Stone in that One Wall and the Entire West Wing collapsed. Or maybe even that one time when that one girl managed to get into the castle and His Majesty was in a Grand Blue Funk for a decade afterward. Or maybe even when he mixed His Majesty's colors and whites just to see what happened...

But those don't count!

Skud had never done anything wrong in his life. He had even been appointed to Captain of the Guard on account of Good Behavior For Longer Than Five Minutes Put Together. And that meant a shiny helmet with real feathers! So why he suddenly found himself being held by the throat six feet in the air by His Majesty's Nix when all he was doing was drawing water for his turnips was beyond him. He choked.

"Nasssssstyyyy gooobbbliiiiinnnn," Ava crooned gently, liquid dribbling from her lips, "Wheeeerrreee Hissssss Majesssssssssstyyyyy?"

Skud attempted to swallow around the pruny fingers, " H'Wha-?"

She shook him lightly, "Naaassstttyyyy goooobbllliiiiinnnn knooooowwwwwsssss..."

From his angle and distance from her face, being Very Close Indeed, he could see sharpened teeth. He paled under his carefully applied grime.

"I don' know h'what h'yer talkin' about!" He squeaked pitifully, "H'yis Majesty's out by Knockma! There ain't no h'way to reach h'yim unless'n h'yeh h'walk!"

Skud found himself being tossed, then caught by the ankle with something damp and slimy. He dangled upside down helplessly as she regarded him quietly. Finally she reached out with and touched him on the nose, making his eyes cross and mustache twitch.

"Theeennnn yooouuuu gooooo..."

"H'What?! I don' know h'yow to get-"

The thick tendril of seaweed shook him wildly. Skud squealed and held on tightly to his plumed helmet with both hands.

"_Yooouuuu gooooo noooowwwww_..." Skud found himself being plunged down into the depths of the narrow well and then ejected just as suddenly from the goldfish pond outside the gates to the Labyrinth. He hit the sand once, then twice as he skidded to a soaking halt. He sneezed.

That was _it_. He had never done anything wrong in his life! There was _no reason_ for such violence against his person! He stomped over to the pond and glared at the poor fish.

"And just h'what am I s'posed to tell h'yim?!"

Ava erupted from the tiny pool in all her undead glory, making him screech and fall backwards. Maybe getting upset about all this was a bad idea after all, he thought, quivering uncontrollably as she hovered over him and _dripped_.

"Tellll hiiimmm neeewwwssss ooofff preeetttyyyyy giiiirrlllllssssss..."

ooOoo

She was dreaming.

She had to be.

Her gown was lovely, all dreams and light. The filmy skirts drifted silently as she studied her reflection in the mirror. _She_ was lovely. Her long hair hung loosely over her bare shoulders. She watched as silver ribbons drifted about her wrists, lacing up to her elbows.

Lovely.

There was a tiny gasp from behind her, and Sarah whirled toward the sound, skirts swinging around her ankles.

Two little girls were peering out from behind the door frame with wide brown eyes.

"Mama looks like an angel."

She couldn't help but soften and hold her arms wide for the sprites. They ran forward and into her embrace. One looked up at her with adoring eyes.

"Will I ever be as pretty as you someday, Mama?"

Sarah kissed the top of her head, "But you're already so beautiful, sweetie. If you get any prettier, the elves will come whisk you away from me!"

The girl giggled and hugged her tightly, voice muffled against her torso, "No they wouldn't, Mama. I wouldn't let them!"

The other girl sighed happily and buried her face against Sarah's thigh, "You wouldn't let anything happen to us, would you, Mama."

"No, I wouldn't. You know that, honey," She knelt down on the hard floor, mindless of the dirt that she was picking up with her white dress, and tapped each one of the girls lightly on the nose, "Because I love you, and you. And so does Papa."

"Even brother?"

Sarah smiled kindly, "Even brother."

Lilah grinned widely, Gwen following suit, "We love you, too, Mama. That's why you have to wake up..."

ooOoo

"Naw, I _don't_ want to see your karbob collection!" Hoggle stomped away from the pestering goblin, "I _want_ to be left alone!"

Dagnabit, Jareth had only been gone for _five minutes_ and already the entire blinkin' place was jumpin' down his throat! Subconsciously, his hand strayed to the plastic bracelet. _She _would've known what to do while the Goblin King was out.

"Hey, Biggob!"

"Eh?"

"Downs here, yew frigglefrat!"

Hoggle looked down at his feet. Brownies were tugging on his boots. He tried to dislodge them by shaking his foot, but they held on tightly.

"Let go of me!"

"Biggob gotsto list'n! We's foun' sometin'!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Dey's sometin' in da courtchar'! Nix-ey lady toss out!"

"Yeah Yeah Yeah! Toss like'n a sack!"

"Sh' ain't movin', needer!"

"You gotsta comin'!"

Hoggle shook his foot again, "Get _offa _me already! I ain't got _time_ for your silly games. I got a bleedin' _castle_ to run!"

"Bu' da laydee!"

"No buts! Go -" He struggled to think of a good insult. Just how do you insult a brownie, anyway? "Go – rearrange some tiles or somethin'! I got other things to worry about!" He attempted to stomp away from the mini-mob, but one threw a pebble at his bum. He started in surprise (that _stung!_) and turned to stomp every last one of the dirty little buggers.

"Hoggle?"

He stopped mid-hop to look at the stone woman, who was staring out the window along with a shoving mob of goblins, "Eh?"

"I think you might want to see this."

ooOoo

Sarah frowned and smoothed a hand over the girl's dark hair, "What do you mean by that?"

Gwen pulled at her hand, "The water lady will be back soon – you need to wake up!"

"Water lady? What are you talking about?"

"_Please_, Mama! You're running out of time! It'll all be undone if you don't!"

She found herself being pulled farther into the room. Struggling against the iron grips that clung to her hands proved useless.

"What is going on?! Stop this!"

"No, Mama! You have to go back!" Lilah gave a decisive shove and Sarah stumbled out on to the balcony, "You have to go back!"

She hit the banister, "Go back where? What are you doing?"

And she was falling.


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: Many thanks to yodeladyhoo. It made me laugh so hard I couldn't resist. You'll know it when you see it.

**Fable**

The grand room was a display of lascivious excess, as usual. Jareth pushed past the stately displays of rich foods and exotic floral arrangements. A pair of over-enthusiastic revelers stumbled past, knocking into his shoulder during their passage. An overfilled goblet of wine spilled on to his boots and he grimaced as the couple apologized clumsily before wandering off, giggling.

Always a party at Knockma at Tuam.

Across the hall, he could see the matching set of 'His' and 'Her' thrones, raised to see the raucous splendor all about. Now all he had to do was wade through the absolute _sea_ of creatures that blocked his way. Wonderful. Laughter and music filled the air.

He was beginning to develop a migraine already.

Suddenly he began to appreciate the solitude of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, regardless of the consistent bouts of chaos that reigned in it's halls. At least it wasn't constantly thrumming with excess and frivolities. Sure they had a merry sing-a-long once in a while, but they never lasted for longer than three minutes and thirty seconds, whereas here it was loud and obnoxious _all the bloody time_. He caught his hand mid-air and forced it to his side.

"Aaah, Jareth. How wonderful of you to join us..." Finvarra appeared to his left, sipping at an over-sized goblet. His golden circlet shined in the light, intensifying Jareth's building headache. The retina-searing shade of red that the Fairy King had chosen for his hosiery didn't help either.

He dipped his head out of habit – and to look at the blessedly bland flooring in an attempt to make his eyes stop throbbing, "Majesty."

"I must admit, I am rather surprised that you actually showed," The other man hooked a glass of wine with his other hand and offered it to the Goblin King, "I thought you would have been sulking back at that Labyrinth of yours."

"Yes, well, one can't live in solitude forever," Jareth accepted the glass and raised it slightly before holding it to his lips. Finvarra studied him closely.

"Funny you should say that. I seem to remember a little fairy telling me that you once tried to remedy that situation. Permanently."

Jareth choked on the small sip of liquid and coughed, "I'm sure, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy with me, Goblin King. I know about the girl."

"Unfortunately."

Finvarra chuckled and clapped Jareth on the back, causing him to jerk and spill wine on the already sticky floor, "My friend, we have much to discuss..."

"Finn? Finn, where are you?" The feminine voice somehow managed to carry over the frantic pipes and fiddles, "Finn?"

The golden man made a show of rolling his eyes and sighing dramatically, "Women, eh?" He chortled, nudging Jareth's arm with his elbow as she emerged from the rolling crowds. There was something familiar about her. Her blue eyes immediately brightened upon finding the Fairy King, and she wasted no time in attaching herself to his arm.

"Finn, why did you leave? I was terribly lonely..." Her perfectly manicured nails glinted in the magical glow of the man and she pouted prettily – well, Jareth could only assume that she thought it was attractive. In reality, it only drew attention to the fine lines her face was beginning to develop. Her gaze fell on the Goblin King, "Who is your friend?"

_'You remind me of the babe.'_

Jareth bowed stiffly, still trying to place where he may have seen this woman before, as Finvarra made the necessary introductions. The woman smirked slightly and held her hand out in expectation.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir."

_'The babe with the power.'_

He kissed her knuckles respectfully, breathing on her fingertips just enough to make her giggle like the young girl she wasn't, "The pleasure is all mine."

Where had he seen this woman?!

The headache began to pound.

_'The power of voodoo.'_

"Do you travel here often?" He inquired politely, willing himself to not rub the bridge of his nose.

She giggled again, "Oh, no. Finn would like me to, but I can usually only make it a few weekends a month. It's hard trying to make it out on to the dating scene when one has a child, after all."

"A child?"

_'You do.'_

"Oh, yes!" She gushed, "I have the most adorable little boy! He's staying with his father right now, but I'm hoping to win full custody," Her whole demeanor changed, "The man is completely useless. If it wasn't for his daughter, I'm sure the courts would have seen things my way already."

_'Remind me of the babe.'_

"Patience, dear," Finvarra soothed, planting a gentle kiss on her temple, "I'm sure things will go your way soon enough."

"I hope so. She's got her head so far up in the clouds that it can't be good for him!"

A cold feeling snaked up Jareth's back and twisted around his gut as pieces began to fall into place, "If you don't mind my asking, what's your son's name?"

_'I think I'll call him Jareth...'_

"Toby," She smiled faintly as she said it, "His name is Toby."

_'He's got my eyes.'_

Jareth's stomach dropped. Finvarra grinned toothily, "Dear, why don't you get something to drink? You look parched."

A strange look passed over Karen's face, "Yes," She replied distantly, "I think I shall."

The monarchs watched her toddle off in silence, Finvarra shaking with mirth; Jareth shaking with anger.

Unable to hold back any longer, he turned on the Fairy King, "Just _WHAT_ is the meaning of this?!"

"Really now, Jareth, I have no idea what you're talking about." The goblet was raised coolly to lips and wine slid down throat in a bored motion.

"What have you done?!"

Finvarra's lip curled, "What does it look like I'm doing, Goblin King? I'm claiming a exceedingly powerful source of belief. It will only be a matter of time before she finds out what happens and comes to me."

"You cannot be serious."

"Oh, but I am. You were right to hide her from me for so long, but I am determined," Finvarra's tone became laced with the iron that he was loathe to touch, "Your precious Sarah will be mine, and we will _not_ have another incident."

"H'your H'yighness! H'your H'yighness!" The goblin known as Skud tore through the hall, guests found they couldn't get out of the filthy thing's way fast enough, and practically collapsed at Jareth's feet in a hyperventilating heap of rags. He looked down at the ragamuffin dispassionately. Nausea began to join the splitting in his head.

"What is it?" He was _not _happy.

"H'your H'yighness! It's the girl!" Skud's eyes took on an unnatural gleam as he dared to look directly into the face of his lord and master. "The girl who _remembers!!_"

ooOOoo

"We've got to get her inside somehow!"

"Mebbe yew does et. Wee's tew smawl."

Hoggle glowered down at the brownies surrounding the body, "Was I talking to you?"

The lead brownie, we'll call him Torry, glared back at the dwarf, "Aye's tinkin' yew 'as."

"Well, I wasn't!"

"Yew's wantin' tah star' sometin'?! Wee's coul' take yew!"

"Yeah? You and what army?"

"Dees wahn!"

Ivory sighed as much as she could for having immobile features. At least the girl was still breathing, she mused. Her nerveless fingers sought out a pulse.

"Ain't much of an army – I could squash you!"

"Bu' cha' ain'! 'Causn wee's tew fas', Biggob!"

And there it was. Steady and strong. That was good.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yea'!"

"I'll show you – Ooomph!" Ivory turned in time to see Hoggle trip over bootlaces that had somehow been tied together during the time of his argument. He began to tremble dangerously as the brownies gathered around his fallen body to jeer at him.

Chilled lips cracked open.

"Hoggle?"

With that one word, all activity stopped. Ivory recoiled from Sarah's side as she rolled to her back and lay still. The brownies quickly freed Hoggle's feet from their previous bindings, and he stumbled to her side, taking her smaller hand in his own.

"Sarah? Are you okay? You ain't hurt or nothin', are you?"

"Hoggle... I can't see."

"Er... That's because yer eyes are closed."

"Oh."

Sarah lay silent for a few moments more – still not opening her eyes, and the rest followed suit, uneasily waiting for her reaction. Behind her, Ivory could hear a few brownies placing bets. 'Launching into a screaming fit' was leading eight to one – it was too bad she had nothing to wager.

"I'm in the Labyrinth. Aren't I?" It was a statement. Even under the dwarf's naturally ruddy complexion, Ivory could see him pale. She held a breath she never took.

"n-noo..."

"The castle then?"

If voices could shrink, his would be tiny, "...yeah?"

She was quiet again. Weighing her options, the living statue guessed, flicking away a pair of brownies who had taken it upon themselves to continue poking the woman with a stick, not that The Girl Who Remembers has many choices of action at the moment.

"I feel like I've just been tossed like a sack of bricks."

"That's because you were."

"Is this _his_ fault?"

"I don't know."

"You aren't being very helpful, you know that?" And with that, the Lady Sarah opened her eyes and sat upright. She rubbed the bridge of her nose _just so_ and Ivory was momentarily reminded of His Majesty. Which opened up a whole new can of Bog filth. What was _he_ going to say?! She watched quietly as Hoggle embraced the girl warmly and they exchanged pleasantries along the lines of 'Where's the bastard – I'm going to kill him' and 'Gee, Sarah – it's good to see you, too'.

A tremor passed through the stones – carrying along a fury so perverse and unholy that it could only belong to one person. Ivory braced herself.

Said person then burst into the courtyard in an explosion of glitter and irritation.

"I'm gone for _TEN BLOODY MINUTES_ and _LOOK WHO DROPS IN!!"_

Oh, dragon-spit.


	10. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Minor editing, mostly character driven. Basically, I wasn't as happy with it as I could have been, so I figured I better fix it before it got out of hand and I'd never get a chance. Thank you for your patience. **_

**Fable**

"_Girl."_

_"Yes, Mistress?"_

_"Come here."_

_The girl struggled to cross the room to stand behind her Lady's shoulder, still unused to moving stiff limbs and inflexible joints. The Queen sat on a luxuriously padded stool as she ran a fine golden comb through her long auburn hair, resplendent in the ornate mirror of her vanity. The woman fairly glowed with power and magic, the girl decided, stationing herself behind the original, however – the Queen was actually quite unremarkable without her fine gowns and painted features. Yes, she could be seen as a very attractive creature, but no more attractive than the next. She took small comfort in this as she waited._

_"My King is a fine specimen of a man, is he not?"_

_The girl hesitated. Subconsciously, she could feel the Queen's scathing judgment waiting to be passed upon receiving her answer. In truth, she found the King fascinating. Here was a being who could be confided in and trusted in a land of uncertainty and lies. He had sought her out, and she had poured her heart out to him the day of her transformation, crying non-existent tears. He had empathized, sharing the story of his life previous and the son that he had lost. He would always share a kind smile when the Queen was not looking and her courage would bolster. She would often find him secluded in the Library, struggling with the pages of ancient texts or writing letters to an unknown party. But the Queen's question required an answer and there was only one she felt she could give._

_"Indeed he is, Your Majesty."_

_The silence was choking, the girl thought. Had she answered incorrectly? The Queen patiently gathered her hair over her shoulder and began to coax it into a thick plait. There was no sign that what the girl said had displeased her, and that was all the more frightening._

_"Truly he must be one of a kind," The Queen finally replied, twisting strands of hair between her fingers. The girl ducked her head modestly in silent agreement. He was definitely one of a kind. The girl watched in silence as the Queen easily opened a small carved box that sat on the vanity and rummaged through it leisurely. Finding what she wanted, the Queen drew a simple, creamy ribbon from the depths of the box and deftly tied off the braid. She studied her reflection in the mirror for a minute, then flicked her eyes to the marble woman that stood behind her._

_"You spend time with him. Tell me, what are his thoughts? Is he happy?"_

_"I – I cannot say, Mistress." _

_"Ah."_

_No, she could not say. She could not say how he was turning the Queen's creations into allies, Naming every one and granting them that little freedom to cling to; to hope on. Nor how he kept a close communication with the Fairy King, biding his time until the impending coup was ready for its fruition. _

_Much better not to say. Her mind wandered, and the next question caught her off guard._

_"...What does he think of me?"_

_The girl choked – or would have, if she could swallow, "I beg your pardon?"_

_"Do not make me repeat myself."_

_The girl made a small, awkward bow in an attempt at a curtsy, "My apologies, My Lady. But perhaps you should ask your King?"_ 'For I do not wish to be the one to reveal how he loathes your very presence.' _she thought._

_The Queen sighed, visibly sagging, "I would – but I am afraid."_

_"Afraid of what, My Lady?"_

_"His rejection."_

_So she was human after all. The girl took another small comfort. _

_"His rejection, Mistress?"_

_"Oh, yes. You see, Girl," The Queen turned on her stool to look directly at her living statue, pulling her light robe tighter around her middle as if she caught a sudden chill, "I have done terrible things. There have been many happenings that I have orchestrated that he never deserved. I stole him from his family as a Goblin will snatch a child from its happy cradle. I destroyed his wife and child. I have reordered time and turned his world upside down. But I have done it all for him." She stood slowly, grandly, gathering her pride about her like a shield, "I tore him from the drivel of a mortal life and have given him the jewels of immortality. I have made him King. I have given him my very heart, without hesitation."_

_The girl was rooted to the spot as the Queen breezed by her, shrugging out of the filmy robe and holding it out. A marble hand reached out to receive the flimsy fabric, holding it gently as the Queen smoothed her hands down her simple, cotton night shift as if it were a gown of purest gold._

_"I have done all this because I wanted him. And now I want him," She spread her hands wide and gave the stone girl a sincere smile, "To want me. I want him to look on me with something other than regret or scorn. I do not want his blind obedience. I wish for his companionship. But I fear it will be denied me."_

_The girl remained silent, basking in this rare instance of weakness in her monarch. Suddenly she found her hands clasped between the Queen's own, robe hanging between them. The woman (as the girl had begun to think of her as) was the picture of quiet desperation._

_"Please, you spend time with him. Tell me what I must do to attain his friendship after I have wronged him so."_

_"I – I am unsure, Your Majesty," She fought to keep herself from trembling under the intensity of the Queen's gaze. What she was about to suggest would get her thrown into the bog for sure, she thought, but it was worth a try, "But perhaps, if you were to start by apologizing to him..."_

_"Apologize?! Me?! Surely you must be joking!" The moment of weakness had passed and the girl shrank away from the self-righteous fury that the Queen found herself in possession of, "_He_ should be the one to apologize to _me! _If it had not been for me, he would still be stuck in that monotonous, hopeless excuse for a life! I made him who he is! I made him strong! Apologize to _him_?! Never!"_

_"But Your Majesty just said-"_

_"Just said, nothing! I will not be hearing such nonsense!" In a fit of frustration, the Queen threw herself to her sheets, leaving the girl standing bewildered – robe dangling from one hand. At least she had tried...? Slowly making her way across the room, the robe was carefully hung in the massive wardrobe, and the girl quietly left the room – pointedly ignoring the quiet muttering that emanated from the bed. _

_Back inside, there was a sniffle – followed by a choked sob._

_"Apologize to him," The Queen mumbled, "How daft."_

_The sheets ruffled slightly as she readjusted herself under the covers. She stared at the dark ceiling._

_"We are all victims here."_

ooOOoo

She was late.

Toby scuffed his toe on the sidewalk and readjusted the backpack slung over his shoulder. It wasn't like her to be late. He checked the cheap plastic watch on his wrist again, squinting in concentration as he struggled to read it's face. Mother had never allowed him a digital. She claimed that it would be good for him to learn to read an actual clock. Sarah had argued with her about it – finally buying a better quality watch for him to wear whenever he was at Dad's. It was pretty cool. It lit up when he pressed the right button.

Let's see... If the Big Hand is on the Six and the Little Hand is a bit after the Three...

She was half an hour late.

Strange.

He started to rock on the balls of his feet, looking up and down the road. All the other kids had long been retrieved already – leaving him as the last. There was still no sign of the green minivan. He liked that minivan. It was old, but it was fun! Sarah would always let him set the radio and they'd sing at the top of their lungs as she drove them home. Sometimes she'd even take him out for a dipped cone at the local ice cream shop and she'd open the back hatch and they'd sit in the trunk.

But the minivan wasn't here.

And she was still late.

A light breeze teased his bangs. He had fought long and hard for those. Mother had wanted him to have it cut really, really short, but he liked it on the longish side. Sarah had helped – promising that she would take him to get it cut but then going to the movies, instead. They went to _Gremlins_, and _Princess Bride_ and, _Beetlejuice_ and, _Batman_, and _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_. She bought him popcorn and soda and candy. He would go home with a smile on his face and a sick stomach. Mother would frown, but Sarah would explain that they just forgot; she promised to take him next week – and everything was okay again.

A car was approaching quickly down the road. Toby frowned, the silver vehicle wasn't one that he recognized. It wasn't long before it screeched to a stop in front of the sidewalk was where he was patiently (borderline not-so-patiently) waiting. A blond head poked out of the top of the convertible. A blindingly white smile spread wide under dark aviator sunglasses. Toby decided they looked ridiculous.

"Hey, Tobe! How ya doin'?"

Toby scowled, "Hi, Finn."

He had never liked the man. Finn was the one who took Mother away from Dad. Toby saw the way he would magically show up whenever he was at the store with Mother and sweet talk her as they walked past the Doritos. He would slip him a dollar and send him off to the candy aisle, but when Toby would refuse to leave, he'd glare darkly instead and lead Mother ahead – Toby would have to almost jog to keep up. He knew that was who Mother was going to see whenever she said she was going to the gym. It was all his fault. Jerk.

That, and there was something about him that just seemed off. Like if you looked at him out of the corner of your eye in just the right way, you would see something completely different. He never wore shorts (even on the hottest, most humid days), seemed to only own green shirts (even the pukey, baby-poo colored ones), and never took off those stupid-looking leather gloves (if they were supposed to make him look cool or exotic, it _did not work_). It was Toby's dearest dream to find out that he was horribly disfigured under all those extra coverings – and Mother would go back to Dad.

And he called him 'Tobe.' Toby _hated_ that. _Everyone_ called him 'Toby,' _not_ 'Tobe.' The only one allowed to call him anything other than 'Toby' was Sarah – and she would call him 'Sir Tobias'. Only that _jerk_ would call him 'Tobe'.

"Your mom sent me to come pick you up today. Sorry I'm so late," He motioned to the seat beside him, patting the leather, "Come on, jump in."

Something wasn't right. Or maybe it was the way that Finn's hair seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. Toby frowned, "I'm going to my Dad's for the weekend."

"There's been a change of plans," He lowered his sunglasses to peer over top of the lenses, "I thought your mother told you that."

"I'm going to my _Dad's_ for the weekend. Sarah will be here any minute."

"Any minute, huh?" Finn made a show of looking around for any incoming vehicles – the road stayed conspicuously empty, "Strange – I would have thought that she would have been here by now. Are you going to get in or not?"

"No! I'm waiting for Sarah!"

"Toby," Something about the way the man settled himself in his seat and looked pointedly over at the boy was unsettling. Toby held the strap of his backpack tighter, steeling his resolve, "I know that we never really got along, and I regret that. But now is _not_ the time to be arguing with me about this. Get in the car."

"No."

"Toby..."

"No! You're nothing but a... a..." Toby's forehead wrinkled as he struggled to remember exactly what Sarah called the man, "A... home-wrecking, bubble-headed, seedy BASTARD!" He grinned inwardly – Sarah would have been proud. If only she was here right now like she was _supposed _to...

Then he immediately regretted his little bout of insubordination as thunder clouds rolled over Finn's face. He took an uncertain step back. Finn opened his mouth to retort, but the sound of a car turning the corner and approaching interrupted him – much to Toby's relief.

Finn glared at the boy darkly and peeled away from the side of the road, roaring down the street. Toby watched him go, wishing for all the world that he would go careening off the side of the road and hit a pole. Unfortunately, it didn't happen. A honk called him from his daydream.

His dad's car had pulled up in the spot that Finn's convertible had just left, and he hopped into the passenger seat, glowering. Robert took it as annoyance that was directed at him.

"Sorry I'm late – I-"

"It's okay," Toby interjected, "I'm not mad. Joey's mom was late, too, so we played for a while. What happened to Sarah?"

"Sarah?"

And Toby knew something was wrong.


	11. Chapter 10

**_A/N: Sorry for the delay. I was really not pleased with the original chapter that was here, and took it upon myself to improve upon it until I could stand to look at it again. As a result, Chapter Nine got a facelift, as well. If you haven't checked it out, please do. All the improvements on it are superficial, so you really aren't missing anything if you decide not to backtrack, but it's there all the same._**

**_I hope you enjoy this chapter much more than the old one. I know I do. Thank you for your patience!_**

**Fable**

It is a rare thing in a goblin's life to become intimately acquainted with a Challenger. Challengers, after all, are foreign, smell like old cheese, and most likely carriers of dreadful diseases that are passed on in the most embarrassing fashion (I mean, really. Ever been bit by a Challenger before? It's not something you would want to go out bragging about. And then there's that particularly _nasty _one that is brought about by -gulp- _**washing one's hands**_...) Sure, non-goblin residents of the Labyrinth's many halls may come across the odd human trying to get to the castle and find themselves dragged kicking and screaming along for the ride, but for an actual goblin to become involved... unheard of!

Stories were passed along through their grimy generations about the horrors and shame that accompanying a Challenger brings, and, as a result, goblins thoroughly opposed helping Challengers of any kind. In fact, when news of a Challenger reached the shanty town of the Goblin City, many would spring into action to stop the Challenger (usually by finding a nice little hidey-hole to bunk down in until the worst was passed.) So for a ragtag group of non-goblins to have news of a Challenger who not only treated them as equals, but actually _finished_ the Labyrinth within the allotted time AND THEN had invited them _all_ back to her place for a lively party that may or may not include a healthy amount of finger foods and confetti... well, it sounded far too good to be true. And to some (namely, the ones who lost at Scrabble that night) it was, but to others, it was a turning point in Goblin History.

The human Sarah Williams was A-O-K.

Goblin Legend then elbowed Goblin History in the kidneys, and dragged it to the farthest corner of the Labyrinth while it was doubled over in pain, and welcomed Sarah Williams into it's wide (if not slightly smudged) arms while History wasn't looking.

It became an honor to aid the Challengers – and ultimately the downfall of the children that were being held as prizes. The incidents of goblins leading Challengers to oubliettes or even the Bog became more and more numerous, often ending with the goblin in question peering down the dark shaft and wondering exactly when the party was going to be.

The more courageous (read, younger and stupider) goblins would make the treacherous journey to the Aboveground to spy upon the curiosity of the original Winner. They would return with the tales of their victories over the strange creature of the bright, cold stomach, and the surprisingly tasty feet of things that would feed upon humans (but must not digest very quickly, because the humans kept getting out again.) At any rate, these stories soon petered out after the human Sarah Williams began scolding them for raiding the "ri-freeg-a-ray-tore" and letting the air out of the "tie-rers" of her alpha male human's "caw." A select few set up camp in her room, determined to keep it safe until she returned from whatever foreign place she was conquering at the moment. Unfortunately, the shaggy, grey and white beast would find them and chase them around the house, making a godforsaken racket that resulted in the giants of the house nearly finding them.

But the human Sarah Williams never got mad when they stuffed the sinks with the discarded socks of the alpha male giant or drew crude pictures on the walls with the alpha female giant's tubes of colored grease. In fact, her reaction was far beyond their tiny minds to comprehend. After all, their King would hardly put up with half the mischief that they so loved to indulge in. No, this Sarah Williams would react in a way that was _not normal_.

She would laugh.

_Laugh._

Laugh and laugh and laugh until the tears ran down her cheeks and she could barely breath to the point that they would consider panicking for all of ten seconds before a shiny object would sparkle and she would be left to fend for herself. She would bring them little treats until she soon hosted a treasure trove of the goodies under her bed. Animal crackers, pretty beads, bits of colored string, feathers – these were far too precious to risk bringing to the Goblin City! Plus, she would tell them stories. She would tell them about the girl in the red cape who outwitted a wolf, and the prince who was a frog, and even the one about Many Furs.

And in exchange for her generosity, they would grant her small favors – like tying the shoelaces of the boy who made her cry together under the lunch table, or by filling the lockers of the girls who would ostracize her with bits of rotten fruit and garbage. It would only serve them right, after all, for underestimating the power of the Girl who Remembers.

The Golden Time had to pass, as all things do, and she left them to travel to a far away place. But she came back, much, _much_ sooner than she had said she would. Which was good, because something bad was going on. They could smell it.

There was more magic in the air than normal. A strange magic at that. The kind of magic that could twist their noses and curl their toes. Some of the littler goblins even began to go missing. Of course, His Majesty wasn't too happy when he found out about _that_. So when he called for an assembly of goblins to become her personal bodyguards, Alger Ot was more than happy to accept the great privilege of watching over the famous Sarah Williams, hoping that he too could share in the magical stories she would tell and even taste one of those round and rubbery feet he had heard so much about.

What he had _not _planned on, was the troll.

Now he found himself scurrying through the trees, running for his meager, excuse for a life. (It might have not been much, but at least it was _his!_) The troll was a greatly unwanted sight – he had bolted as soon as he had realized _exactly_ it was that had been previously living under that godforsaken bridge, and hopefully the others had managed to get away, too. Keep an eye on the girl, sure, but he wasn't about to risk his own skin! They didn't give him enough grit cake for that!

He slashed at some leaves that were in his way and vaulted over a fallen tree. Now if only he could find a nice hidey-hole that he could bunk down into until the worst was over! Or even better yet, find his way back to the Underground! It was far too green here, anyway. Plants were overrated.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

Alger dove under a bush, peering up at the skinny legs that stomped through the tiny wilderness. Where in the name of the Bog had they come from?! They were giants! Even if they were only little giants, his well-being was in more danger than bargained for. He held his breath.

"I thought there was something here..."

"You've been listening to Ms. Williams too much, Em."

"But I saw it!"

The sneakers continued on, leaving Alger to contemplate whether or not moving was a good idea. The first few days of shadowing the human Sarah Williams had been as boring as watching mud dry, but he was beginning to miss it. Now he had to be the bearer of bad news when he finally made it back to the Labyrinth, and _everyone_ knows what they do to messengers. In the King's case, it was a quick dip in the Bog and a long stay on the outskirts of the 'Rinth.

But it was quiet. The giants had moved on. He peered out from under the broad leaves, bulbous eyes darting back and forth.

Looked safe enough.

He crept out of his hiding space, carefully examining his surroundings carefully and confirming that niggling little thought that banged around under his leather headpiece. There were no handy landmarks poking up above the walls. The sun was the wrong color, and there wasn't nearly enough dust in the air. Which lead to a simple conclusion.

He was lost.

"Look! There it is!"

"It's a goblin! Catch it!"

Crashing footsteps erupted from behind him, and he shrieked, tearing off through the shrubbery. He zigged and zagged and even corkscrewed a few times, but he couldn't shake them. Ducking behind a tree trunk, he tried to stop the rising swell of panic. Unfortunately, a twig snapped to his left, and he looked up just in time to see a black hole descending upon him.

Everything went dark.

ooOOoo

All was _not_ well in the land of the Goblin King. Sarah was being spirited away back to the Aboveground, accompanied by the stoic figure of Ivory. This left Jareth to pace his study irritably as Hoggle looked on.

"She can't possibly appear out of nowhere! Where in God's name did she come from?!"

"I'm tellin' ya! I don't know!"

"If you are lying to me Higgle..."

Hoggle panicked in the only way he knew how. Pathetically and with an abundance of run-on sentences. It was at this point that Jareth tuned out. If he had a silver piece for every time that the dwarf had fallen into a twitching sack of goo at his feet...

"Oh, do be quiet," The floor of the study was crossed easily with a few steps and he stared out the window uneasily. It was all getting to be far too... coincidental. First, Finvarra's obvious meddling with the lives of the Williams household. How he hadn't noticed that until now was beyond him. But then, he _was _dealing with the Fairy King – nothing that creature could do would ever be called typical. It could only have been Ava that dragged Sarah here through the pathways to the Labyrinth – which meant that something happened to put her in danger. Which pointed straight to the Fairy King.

But it had been made perfectly clear that the King was willing to win the girl over, be it by treachery or not. But... _why?_ She had never been of any use to him before, whatever magic her imagination could conjure, he already held – so why the sudden fascination?

Far to the right side of the labyrinth, walls were rearranging themselves. His eyes narrowed. Someone was walking the path to the orchards. The orchards were _restricted_. _Everyone_ knew that.

_Why, oh WHY, was everyone challenging his authority today?_

Someone was going to **pay**.

Hoggle's tirade slowed and quieted as Jareth stormed to the door, grabbing his cloak along the way and slamming the door behind him. The dwarf blinked once, then twice.

"Well, that went better than planned."

"Huh? Where'd you come from?"

The mouse-like goblin popped his head out of the treasure pouch and scanned the room, "Help me find a pencil. I want to record this while it's still fresh."

"What?"

Dashe carefully extracted himself from the tangle of necklaces that choked the drawstring-opening, then dove to the soft carpet, scampering to the desk and scaling the legs of the intricately carved chair. He tugged at a drawer uselessly, "Help me find a pencil! How am I supposed to draw without one? Flek chewed my last to bits – A-_HA!" _The drawer finally gave half an inch and he squirmed inside, tail flicking back and forth.

Hoggle approached the desk warily as an abundance of shifting and clicking emanated from within its drawers. He had heard about this one – and not all of it good. Dashe was known for being quick with a picture, and they weren't all that flattering. His series on "_The_ _Irritation of His Majesty"_ was an underground sensation in the Goblin City, as well as an instant death sentence for any creature found possessing a copy of the comically exaggerated portraits. They were often passed around in the pub after a few pints. Some of the more daring goblins had them tattooed across their chests. Some of the dumber goblins had them tattooed across their backsides.

There was even a rumor that His Majesty had imprisoned Dashe in a mug for a month because of one of the drawings the tiny creature made. What the picture was _of_, however, was a mystery. Skid and Skad, the troublemakers, had attempted breaking into his private chambers once the curiosity of it all became too much for them, but all they got for their trouble was a sentence of cleaning out all the lavatories in the castle for the next hundred thousand years.

"Er... are ya sure you should be diggin' around in his stuff like that?"

"No worries," The tiny voice was muffled by the thick wood, "I've done this a hundred times," A veritable storm of paper flew out of the cracks in the desk, and Hoggle held up an arm to protect himself, "Do me a favor and catch this stuff, will you? It'll get us both out of here faster."

Good point. His Majesty had a short memory when it came to anyone in his quarters.

Hoggle scooped up the sheets as the tiny goblin began to wriggle out of the desk drawer, hind end first. His short, stubby tail waggled from side to side as he worked the length of the, surprisingly modern, pencil from the depths of its resting place. With a few final tugs, the pencil was freed, sending Dashe and the pencil itself tumbling arse over teakettle to the floor. Dashe squeaked with the impact, but was back on his feet before Hoggle could ask if he was alright.

He dragged the unwieldy length of the writing utensil to a sheet of paper that had landed nearby and pulled it upright, steadying himself on his haunches. Sticking his tongue out of the side of his mouth, he began to throw down a quick sketch.

The pencil flew in front of Hoggle's eyes and soon he found himself looking at a fairly accurate portrayal of the confrontation between Sarah and His Majesty that had happened not five minutes ago.

"Put this on the desk, and let's get outta here!"

Hoggle couldn't find it in him to protest.


	12. Chapter 11

**Fable**

The puddle was murky, at best, but it still suited my purpose well enough.

"_I'M GONE FOR TEN BLOODY MINUTES AND LOOK WHO DROPS IN!!"_

I smiled slightly. Ever the dramatic one. I should not have expected any less of him. To do so would have been an insult.

The dwarf and the girl showed enough sense to slink away from his temper, but the woman... the woman had all the intelligence of a stone it seems. Instead of shutting up and pretending she didn't exist, like any decent subject would, she had the audacity to stand up to him. Literally.

I was sure that if I listened carefully, I could hear the shouting from the castle – even without my enhancements.

_"Don't you dare pin this one on me! Your reasons for _kidnapping _me are no one's but your own and I had no part of it!"_ She leaned forward and poked a finger into his chest, "_So now, if you don't mind – I need to go home!"_

He stared down dispassionately at her before crossing his arms in that delightfully haughty manner. Some things never change, _"Really, Sarah. Still holding yourself so highly after all these years. Did you ever stop to think that it was never about you?"_

_"Then, you can let me go back. No problem."_

_"If it were only that simple. Tell me, Sa-rah. How did you get here?"_

I could answer that one. Too bad no one was asking.

"_Wha- what are you talking about?"_

_"There are only three ways in which you could have entered the Labyrinth, Sa-rah. Which. One. Was It?"_

Ah, now here comes my favorite part. The panic. It always felt so, for lack of a better word, _good_ to watch the realization finally come home in their eyes. It starts with a short inhale and the slight widening of the lids, just enough to see white, added to the tiniest drop of the jaw, and ends with a look of perfect terror. The unknown is always frightening, and when one is unsure of what is happening to themselves – it is all the scarier. But how one deals with the unknown is how character is established. You find your core.

_"I – I don't know, okay?! I just..."_ Her hands fly to the sides of her head now, as if the very motion of grabbing will help her retain the information that dances across her conscious. Shock will do that, you see. In that one beautiful moment, you could forget your own name. She falls to her knees, _"I just – I don't know!"_

His jaw tightens just the littlest bit – most would have missed it, but I know him well. He is unsure. I can see it in the way he holds himself. He always did like puffing himself up whenever he felt weakest. He uses bravado like a shield.

But the woman... she is an unknown. Her emotions are raw. She tastes... familiar, but I have never encountered her personally. Her path is burned into the very stone of the Labyrinth; her story is legend.

She reeks of power and that is all that matters.

Sarah Williams.

The image ripples, then fades slightly before refocusing. I am out of practice for such spells. No matter. I know how this will end.

His stubbornness will cause him to break her, mentally and emotionally, right there at the foot of the fountain. He will demand the very answers she cannot give until she is left in a sobbing heap. When she is finally of no use to him, he will toss her back into the Above like a piece of refuse – where she will be branded a madwoman and left to rot in a cell somewhere. I wait his next shouted question with baited breath, waiting to watch the downfall of the woman who bested _my_ Labyrinth so long ago. For him to exact the revenge I so desperately craved for her insubordination.

Instead, he lowers himself to her level and strokes the length of her hair as she racks her mind for answers. She looks up at him with wide, question-filled eyes. A lock of hair twists its way around his finger.

_"Why can't I remember?"_

_"I do not know. But I have an idea,"_ He starts to rise, but she grabs his arm instead, keeping him near.

_"Jareth," _I bristle at the use of the name. A _gift_ from a meddling king, _"What's going on?"_

He chooses to avoid the question, instead beckoning my chambermaid closer and gently removing himself from the woman's tight grip, _"Ivory, please escort Ms. Williams to wherever she needs to be. I will be in my study."_

The girl bows slightly and takes the woman's hand. The dwarf is still cowering to the side, until a pointed finger is directed at him,_ "You are to come with me, Hogwash."_

_"Hoggle," _The woman stands unsteadily, _"It's Hoggle."_

Its gaze darts uncertainly between the woman and the man, feet shifting unsteadily. My king rolls his eyes.

_"Hoggle, then."_

The image flickers, then fades.

"Fat lot of good you were."

"Hold your tongue."

I laugh. Finvarra was never very comfortable around me, that was truth, but to see him so disconcerted on my own territory was almost enough to forgive him in his wrongs against me.

Almost.

"And what is your plan now, Little King?"

He begins to pace, tugging at the fingers of his gloves. Oh, those bloody gloves. I never did understand what the men saw in them. Either way, his silence tells me enough.

I straighten from my previous crouch and bounce on the balls of my feet, trying to relieve my calves of that unpleasant prickling sensation, "You have no plan."

His mouth twists, and I know what he is going to say next. It rots on his tongue and coats the roof of his mouth.

"I need your help."

"I have a price."

"Name it."

The sun was sweet and the air was bright. I could feel his eyes on me as I stretched, enjoying every snap and pop of the spine. For once, things were going _my_ way. I quite liked the sensation.

"My throne."

"Done."

"And my kingdom."

He hesitates. Granting me a title is easy enough, but to displace the current ruler completely is much more complicated. Especially in the Underground, where tying a monarch's life to his land is not completely unheard of.

_Especially_ when it means the death of a man who bears the name of a beloved son. Deceased, to be sure, but beloved nonetheless.

"Done."

I spit in the palm of my hand and offer it to him, he follows suit. It is sealed.

"Now tell me what it is about this girl that interests you so. I'd rather like to know my enemy."

ooOoo

"I didn't have enough time to make anything for dinner – I hope you like pizza."

The car pulled into the driveway without incident. He peered up at the house in anticipation. There was a light on in her window – maybe Dad was just joking.

"Toby?"

Toby jumped, "Wha-?"

Robert chuckled, "You looked like you were a million miles away for a moment, there. You okay?"

"Yeah. I guess I'm just tired."

"I guess the _Star Wars_ marathon can wait then, hey?"

Toby hugged his backpack close, a sick feeling settling into his stomach, "No, I'll make it. Can I invite Curt and Emma over, too?"

"Sure – I'll order that pizza."

"Thanks, Dad."

The house was exactly as he remembered it. Nothing was missing, and nothing was added. Family pictures still hung on the walls of the living room. The wallpaper was still starting to peel near the ceiling in the bathroom. Sarah's keys were still hanging on the hook in the kitchen. There was no sign to show that anything was amiss, and it bothered Toby to no extent.

His room was exactly as he left it, which really was no surprise. Sarah took extra care to make sure nothing happened to his things. He dumped the book bag in a heap on his bed. Looking up, he caught the reflection in his window and he jumped – startled. Light was leaking out from under the door that was across the hallway.

Sarah's room.

"Toby? You just want pepperoni, right?"

"Uh – Yeah!"

"Okay!"

"Yeah," Toby breathed, "Pepperoni, right. Not as if there isn't something really _weird_ going on right now."

He crossed the hallway warily, unsure of whether or not there was a very, _very _complicated practical joke being played on him. The door itself hadn't changed any. It was still a rich walnut color, with one of those funky plastic handles that's faceted to look like glass. His hand hesitantly reached for the doorknob.

The doorbell rang, making him jump.

"Can you get that?"

Toby tore himself away from his place in front of the bedroom door and hurried down the steps. Things were getting _creepy _in this house. The shadows in front of the frosted glass bounced and weaved as he unlocked the front door and pulled it open.

Emma grinned widely at him while Curt wrestled with a backpack that was fighting back much more than a backpack should.

"You will _never guess_ what happened to us today."

The pack squirmed and Curt grunted with effort, "Can we make him guess _inside_? I don't know how much longer I'll be able to handle this thing!"

"Sure, Sure. Hey, Toby, is your sister around? We want to show her, too."

Toby swallowed, "You... remember?"

"Remember what?"

"You had better come in."

Dirty sneakers scraped against the welcome mat just inside as Toby called out to his father to inform him of their visitors. The three then stomped up the stairs to Toby's room.

Emma plopped down on the bed as Curt continued to grapple with the bag, "What do you mean by 'remember'? Did something happen?"

And at that moment, the fighting backpack managed to slip from Curt's grasp and hit the floor with a thud. Emma screeched and jumped to her feet as it began to scurry back and forth.

A clawed hand reached out and pulled the offending bag off of whatever-it-was's head and it's bulging eyes met Toby's. It screamed. The kids screamed.

"Maydee! Maydee! Maydee!" The _thing_ shouted as it scurried back and forth across the carpet, knocking into the bed frame, shelves and bedside table, before tearing out of the room and across the hallway.

The three followed closely as it squirmed under the crack in the door, against all reason. Toby grabbed the doorknob and yanked it open as fast as he could -

Only to be blinded by an unnatural light that originated from his sister's bookshelf.

"What _is _that?"

Childish giggling erupted from around the room.

"It's a crystal!"

"Nothing more!"

"But if you turn it _this _way...!"

Curt looked around the room in amazement, "There's _more_ of them?"

Goblins peered at them from over lace curtains and under the frilled bedspread. A tower of them fell out of the closet and scattered, their peers laughing wildly at them. The door slammed shut behind the kids, and they were effectively surrounded by furry bodies.

"Hey you!"

"Lemme see!"

"Get 'cher feet outta mah face!"

They were herded into the middle of the room by bony fingers and wide grins.

"Hey!" One goblin shouted, "I know you! You remind me of the babe!"

Toby was confused, "What babe?"

"The babe of the power!"

"What power?" Emma breathed, grabbing hold of both Toby and Curt's hands.

"The power of vooooodooooo..." It wiggled its long fingers at them before cackling wildly and diving under the desk.

"Who do? You do!"

"Do what?"

"Remind me of the babe!"

"Ahahahaha!"

"Um, Toby," Curt began quietly, "Has your sister always hosted a colony of absolutely _insane_ freaky things in her room, or is this news to you, too?"

Suddenly there was a crashing noise downstairs and the sound of someone running up the stairs. Distantly Toby could hear Dad yelling something about trespassing and calling the cops, but before he could fight his way back to the door, Sarah was there.

"Maydee! Maydee! Maydee!"

"Toby," She gasped, hair and eyes wild. She grabbed his shoulders roughly, "Toby, promise me you won't tell anyone."

"Tell them wha-"

There was another crashing noise downstairs, and Sarah sent a fearful look behind her, "Th – There's no time. Just _don't tell._ Any of you – _promise?!_"

Toby nodded dumbly, Curt and Emma following suit.

"Sarah, wha-"

"_No. Time._ Hide!"

Shoes and clothes were shoved aside as the three adolescents huddled in Sarah's tiny closet – door open just enough for them to peer out. Sarah had grabbed a baseball bat from under her bed and made ready for whatever was slowly thudding up the stairs.

Whatever was after his sister, Toby thought, the smell definitely preceded it. The stench curled up and around them, coating the air with the reek of a rotting corpse. A hulking shadow appeared in the door, too tall and too thin to be a man. Goblins scattered. Emma gasped.

"Banshee."

"But I thought-" Curt began to protest, but was immediately hushed.

It had to duck to get through the door, its burning eyes never leaving the lone woman standing near the window. It hissed darkly, mouth spreading wide to show far too many teeth. Sarah looked frantically to the side, trying desperately to come up with a plan.

Her gaze fell to the bookshelf.

The banshee hissed again, drawing her attention back to its immediate danger. Thinking fast, she threw the bat at it and lunged for the bookshelf. It avoided the clumsy projectile easily, drawing breath to unleash the scream that would mark her for death. Instead, her hand closed upon the smooth surface of one, perfect crystal.

With one last defiant stand, Sarah stared hard at the monster.

"I wish the goblins would take me away, right now."


	13. Chapter 12

**Fable**

**Seven Years Ago...**

"Sarah?"

The woman looked up from the checkbook she was trying desperately to balance to direct her attention to the scrawny boy in the stripy pajamas that hung uncertainly in the kitchen doorway. He toed the sticky linoleum floor in embarrassment, "Are you busy right now?"

"Of course not, Toby, what do you need?" Quickly the pile of credit card payments, electricity bill, tuition repayment notices, phone bill, and car insurance payments found themselves shoved off to the side along with the list of groceries to be shopped for, dry cleaning claims to be picked up, and half-filled job applications.

"I had a bad dream again," He looked over his shoulder, double-checking that there were no other witnesses to his moment of weakness, "And I think there's something under my bed."

She only smiled at him for a moment before the chair scraped against the floor and she stood, "Let's go take a look then."

And that, in a nutshell, was what Toby Williams loved about his sister.

She never found it necessary to question his dreams or fears, and there was absolutely nothing in the world that she couldn't put to the side when he needed her. She accepted his imagination's creations for whatever they were – never trying to convince him that playing games was a childish thing to do or something that he outgrew years ago, much like Mother would try.

But Mother never could see the shapes the clouds made, while Sarah would be off catching fairies in butterfly nets and chasing bogeymen with brooms. He would draw Sarah a silly pictures and she'd stick them on the refrigerator. After a while, she'd bundle them together and make a story – just for him.

Only now, _at this very moment_, the great grand-daddy of all ghoulies and ghosties was after her, and there was nothing, _nothing_, that he could do about it except cower in her closet between her old prom dress and a leather jacket that she bought once on a whim and never wore.

Then something odd happened.

She disappeared.

Leaving three terrified junior high schoolers to realize that they were now trapped, alone, and responsible for the removal of the banshee that was wailing and trashing Sarah's normally impeccably spotless room (even though the discovery of the goblin colony was beginning to cast doubts on that previous claim.)

Toby worried his bottom lip as Curt tried to keep Emma from hyperventilating and screaming and fainting all at once by reassuring her that there had to be a perfectly _logical_ reason for why there was an imaginary nightmare creature hunting down the elder sister of their best friend. The more reasons he listed, the more Toby began to think that he was actually trying to reassure himself more than Emma. Curtis Johansen was always more comfortable in the coldness of logic and numbers.

At least listening to the whispered babble kept him from thinking about the little quivering _something_ that was cowering behind his right calf.

Slowly, in an attempt to make as little noise as possible, he slid his hand down the folds of the silky dress until it rested on a short, helmeted head. If he just twisted his neck a _little bit_ and directed his eyes downward, he'd be able to see just what was hiding at knee level without anyone being the wiser.

So he did.

The goblin stared up at him with impossibly wide eyes.

A crash drew his attention back out into the bedroom, where Sarah's vanity was beginning to get acquainted with the idea of being torn apart, upturned and tossed across the room. The whipcord thin creature then busied itself with her dresser, shuffling and digging, still intent on finding its prey. When the search proved useless, it let out an irritated grunt and smashed the photos that were lined across its top, hissing with displeasure. Toby looked back down at the goblin he was currently shielding.

"We're in big trouble, aren't we?" It was a statement. The goblin nodded soundlessly.

Well, if he was going to die an improbable death at the hands of something that wasn't supposed to exist, Toby thought, he might as well be pleasant about it.

"What's your name?" He whispered quietly, trying to ignore the keening noise that continued just outside the door. The goblin tugged on the boy's fingers and shook its head, unwilling to make any sort of motion to draw the attention of the banshee to the small space where the group was hiding. Toby comforted himself with a thin smile, instead.

Emma jumped as something broke with a spectacular crash. She sank farther into the shadows, gripping Curt's hand tightly, "It's too bad there's no such thing as Narnia," She breathed, "What I wouldn't give for this to be enchanted right now."

The forced smile became genuine against Toby's will, "Tell me about it."

"Can you close the door without it noticing? I know it's just a crack, but I'd feel better." Curt murmured in agreement and Toby held his breath, slowly reaching for the knob...

Footsteps.

Everyone froze.

"Enough," The voice almost echoed, and the banshee screeched its last before silence descended upon the room.

If he leaned forward just the teeniest bit, he'd be able to see out the door just enough to find out who had entered and banished the monster without being the wiser. With any luck, whoever it was would be able to tell them where Sarah went, too.

So he did.

And immediately wished he hadn't.

"That son of a _bitch_!"

Finn stood regally amongst the wreckage of Sarah's bedroom, still wearing those damn aviator sunglasses, long pants, and sickeningly green shirt. Something caught his attention downstairs and he clapped twice – setting the room to rights. He tugged at his gloves distractedly before replying.

"I'm up here, sweetheart."

Toby continued to fume as Mother appeared in the doorway, "Finn, what are you doing? I thought we were going to the show..."

"I just needed to check something, dear. How is Robert?" The question made Toby's stomach roll. If he had done anything at all to hurt Dad...

"He's sleeping on the sofa. But really Finn..."

He escorted Mother out the door with a gloved hand at the small of her back, "I just wanted to see if Toby wanted to join us, that's all. There's nothing to worry about. You don't want to be late, do you?"

Mother's voice took on a distant tone, "Of course not. How silly of me..."

The stairs clonked and creaked as the pair made their way down. It wasn't until the front door slammed shut that Toby shot out of the closet and raced after them, only to watch the convertible peel off the side of the road and roar down the street. He slammed his fist against the windowpane with a dull thud. There was a deep snore behind him, and he turned.

Dad was sprawled out on the sofa, just as Mother had said. A lumpy afghan was thrown over his middle and his arm was tucked behind the tiny cushion he was using as a pillow. Toby shook his shoulders, trying to wake him without any luck.

"Toby?"

Emma and Curt stood at the top of the stairs. Emma spoke again, "Toby, what's going on?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but Curt cut him off, stomping down the stairs, "This isn't possible. It's all just a dream. I've been listening to your crazy sister too much and I'm going home."

"My sister isn't crazy!"

"Isn't she?! If she hadn't put all those _stupid_ things in our heads, we wouldn't have been hiding from a _non-existant monster_ for the last half hour! It couldn't have been there. It's impossible. I'm not crazy. I'm going home."

Emma hurried down the stairs after the boy, "Curt, please-"

Toby watched helplessly as his friend stormed angrily to the front door, Emma hot on his heels. Curt turned one last time to glare at them both.

"You two _know_ I don't like that fairy tale crap. So when you don't feel like pulling elaborate jokes like that on me, I'll be up to hang out. I'm outta here."

The door closed quietly.

It W_as. Not. Fair. _Toby sank down on to the thick area rug, staring blankly at a spot of navy blue and leaning against the sofa – where Dad was under some enchanted sleep. Something was happening. Something big. Sarah was missing. Finn was a creepy warlock of some sort. And now his best friend was abandoning him because everything that was happening was like a fairy tale gone horribly wrong. He had never wished to have Sarah check under the bed for monsters so much in his _life. _Emma plopped down on the floor beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder, not saying a word.

"I have to find her," Toby mumbled, "Sarah would know what to do. She knows this stuff. She'd be able to fix this. I just have to find her, somehow."

"Do you know where she could have gone?"

"No."

"Maydee is taken to the Labyrinth."

The kids jumped. The goblin from the closet was sitting halfway down the stairway with his arms, legs, and head wedged through the railing of the banister. His nose twitched and he sniffled, "Maydee made the wish, so's we taken her away. Just like wish says."

Toby jumped to his feet, "Where's the Labyrinth?"

"You needs to be a Challenger," The goblin cackled, kicking his feet, "Is only way to get there. Unless you wish. You was wished once. Maybe you a'member Winchwick?"

"Wished?"

"Wished to the Labyrinth. Maydee only Challenger to win. Maydee's story is _legend_."

Wait, wait, wait. Back the train up. This was only getting more and more surreal. He had to stop thinking so hard. He was just going to get a headache that way.

"How do we challenge the Labyrinth?"

"That easy peasy. You just says so."

Emma grabbed his arm, "Don't you dare say it."

"Why not?"

"Don't you think we should _tell _someone?"

Toby shrugged her off, "And just _who _is going to believe us, Em? Curt doesn't even believe what's happening, and he was _here_."

"Well, just don't go there by yourself! I'll come with, and I'm sure some I could get some of the others to come, too!"

"They have no _reason_ to."

"If you think you're the only one who cares what happens to your sister, bub, you've got another think coming," Emma pulled herself up from the floor, dusting off the seat of her jeans, "Besides, if something happened and no one was there to help you, just how are you going to get your sister back?"

The goblin cackled.

"Is the little master going to go?"

It was now or never. The Labyrinth was waiting. Toby steeled his nerve, turning to face Emma, "If I'm not back in school tomorrow morning, send help," And with a deep breath, "I challenge the Labyrinth for the return of Sarah Williams."


	14. Chapter 13

A/N: Thank you to yodeladyhoo - my 100th reviewer. Posted extra quickly, just for you. :)

**Fable**

_How you've turned my world, you precious thing..._

She was decidedly _not_ in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. Soft earth had cushioned her fall somewhat, although she knew that she'd be bearing the bruises for a few days and the lovely goose egg that was blossoming at her temple was a new addition. She unsteadily pushed herself up from the ground to sit upright.

Everything hurt.

"Do be careful, dear. You've taken quite a tumble."

As soft and gentle as the voice behind her was, Sarah couldn't help but wince as it shot through her head like a solid, streaming, wave of _pain._ If she wasn't in the castle, then where was she, and what happened? The last thing she remembered was Ivory taking her back to the park, and being followed home by yet _another_ thing that was hellbent on getting her. Then there was Toby...

Oh God.

_TOBY!!_

She had to find Jareth! She had to know if Toby was alright! She began attempting to scramble to her feet, but nausea overtook her instead. Hands caressed her back as she fell back to her knees and gagged.

"Don't rush. It'll only make it worse."

The moment passed and Sarah moved to a sitting position that faced her companion. The woman smiled cheerily at her, "See? That's much better now, isn't it?" She kindly passed Sarah a full water skin, "The disorientation will pass quickly enough. Now drink, and I'll see if I can't find you something to eat."

There was something off here, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Who are you? Why are you helping me?"

The woman waved her hand nonchalantly, "Oh, no one in particular. I just saw your fall, that's all. Drink up."

Eying her warily, Sarah raised the container to her lips, fully intending to only take a sip, but when the water touched her lips, she realized how thirsty she was and gulped at it greedily. The water was pure and clean, quenching her thirst with its sweet coolness. The woman watched closely, and nodded in approval, "Now you wait here. I'll be right back."

The woman skirted off into the trees, leaving Sarah to wonder just where she was. It certainly wasn't a part of the Labyrinth that she was familiar with, although the tangy spice of magic in the air told her that she was definitely Underground.

Well, nothing to do but to look around a bit.

Trees surrounded her, nearly blotting out the sky with their outstretched branches. Leaves crowned the brown trunks like puffy green clouds, reminding Sarah of the crayon drawings that her kids would give her at the Library. Red smudges here and there indicated that they were definitely of the fruit-bearing kind. She took another drink of the water as she contemplated the four-petalled flowers that stood proud and tall amongst the grove.

Rustling caught her attention, and the woman who had aided her appeared from between the trees. She held her dirty apron out in front of her, carrying something that Sarah couldn't make out. She couldn't have been much older that Sarah, she thought, as she dropped to the ground next to her, spilling her treasure on the soft ground.

"Here you are, dear. Eat up – you should rebuild your strength a bit before you need to be moving onward."

The fruit was beautiful against the healthy green of the grass. Shining red apples, glistening pears, rosy peaches... Sarah shook her head and started to rise.

"Thank you so much for your help, but I need to get to the Castle."

"Nonsense, dear. You should eat something."

"No, I-"

"I insist."

There was something compelling about the woman's voice, and Sarah found herself sitting back down and selecting a bit of fruit under the her stern gaze. Under the pressure of her hawk-like gaze, Sarah took a large bite out of the apple and nearly swooned. It was so perfect and delicious!

"There, there. I said you'd feel better, didn't I?"

Oh, and she did. With each juicy morsel she swallowed, she felt more relaxed and at ease. She picked the apple down to the core and sighed in contentment, "I don't know what came over me."

"Have another, dear. Tell me a bit about yourself."

A sweetly-scented breeze flirted with her senses and she breathed deeply before making her next selection. There was nothing to fear here, obviously, otherwise this kind lady wouldn't have been here to help her while she got her bearings back, right?

"My name is Sarah. Sarah Williams."

"Sarah Williams?! _The_ Sarah Williams?!"

The soft pear dribbled as she bit into it, "You've heard of me?"

"Heard of you? My dear, there isn't a soul in the Underground who hasn't!"

Sarah blinked, things were starting to look fuzzy on the edges. She blinked again, and it went away. It must have been a play in her mind. She did bump her head after all.

"Sarah is such a pretty name."

The sky was so blue. The clouds were so puffy and white.

"What's your name?"

"My name?" The lady seemed surprised, "I... I don't... I don't remember. But that doesn't matter."

She was admiring the lovely way the lady's hair was waved and she frowned. _Her_ hair would never do anything so nice for _her_, it just wasn't fair... "I'm sure your name is something marvelous, like... like Mercedes or Anastasia or something. Sarah is boring."

"What a silly thing to say, dear. Sarah is lovely. Do you know what your name means?"

She took a vicious bite, deciding she was quite jealous of the lady's pretty gown, "No."

The lady laughed lightly, a tinkling, melodic sound that made Sarah scowl harder, "It means 'princess', dear."

Sarah was silent, swallowing the last bite of pear and wondering what she should try next. It was just so yummy! "I sure don't feel like a princess."

"Why not?"

"I'm not dressed for it," She said, picking up yet another piece of fruit, "I don't have my lipstick, and my hair's a mess."

"I think I may be able to fix that for you," The lady laughed and produced a crude wooden comb from a pocket in her apron. She scooted over next to Sarah and began to draw the comb through the girl's hair in long, soothing strokes. It felt so nice, Sarah thought, it had been a long time since anyone had brushed her hair for her since Mother left...

"Would you like me to tell you a story?"

She looked up eagerly; she loved stories, "Really?"

The lady nodded, a kind smile on her face, "If you'd like."

She nodded emphatically, "Yes, please. I love stories."

"Of course, dear. Just relax and let me take care of you," Skilled fingers continued their ministrations as she began to speak again, "Once upon a time, there was a girl, much like you, and she was a princess."

"Was she a beautiful princess?" Sarah breathed, falling easily into the role of a starstruck little girl. She raised her final selection to her mouth and took a greedy bite. The peach was soft and tender in her hands – sweet and juicy against her lips.

"Oh yes. She was lovely. With deep hazel eyes and long sable hair. And she lived very happily in the palace with her father, the King, and her mother, the Queen. But one day, the Queen left without a word, and the King was very sad. The Princess, however, was devastated."

Sarah frowned; it all sounded familiar. But it was just a story.

"The Princess mourned for many days and many nights. Eventually, the King was forced to take another wife, but the Princess could not accept her, instead turning into a wretched creature whom no one could love. The New Queen gave the King a son, and the Kingdom celebrated their new Prince. The Princess was pushed aside and forgotten. She spent her days alone and lonesome in the North Tower, only venturing out when required."

"It must have been horrible for her."

"It was, dear. But there was hope. There was a man in the crowd who saw her one day, and she saw him. She found him intriguing and he began to seek her. He would sing at her window and send letters tied with ribbon, urging her to leave everything she ever knew to join him."

"How romantic! Did she?"

Her scalp tingled as the lady began to run her fingers through her hair, ensuring that all the tangles were gone, "Eventually. She knew that there was no one to love her for what she was – a horrible, selfish thing – and left in the dead of night. No one noticed her desperate flight into what she hoped was what she craved. She pledged herself to the man in a quiet ceremony in the darkest woods.

"'Do you love me?' He asked.

"'More than life.' She said.

"'Do you fear me?' He asked.

"The Princess hesitated before nodding, because she feared he would leave her and she would be left alone once again if she did not.

"'Then I am your slave.' He said, drawing her close and kissing her sweetly."

"Did they live happily ever after?"

"No. He had lied, as all men do. He used her cruelly and left her to die with the vermin."

The girl shuddered as the lady began to coax thick tendrils of her hair into a plait, "What a terrible man! Who would do such a thing?!"

The lady smiled tightly, "I'm not sure, dear. It truly is an awful thing to do."

"How could the Princess let herself be tricked like that?"

"Many people do strange things in the name of love."

"It's not fair!"

"Of course it isn't. But some good came of it. After the princess was betrayed in the darkness, she was discovered by someone who truly cared for her."

"Who?"

"The Queen. She gathered her daughter up in her arms and kissed her tears and soothed her heart, as all good mothers do. She told the Princess that there was a King in a faraway land who wanted to meet her and make her his Queen, much as the her father had done for her mother, many years ago. And this King would keep her forever and she would want for nothing."

"Did she?"

The lady smiled kindly, "That is yet to be seen. Now come, we don't want to keep him waiting, love."

The girl blinked lazily, magic slowly working through her mind, "What was the Princess's name?"

"Sera. Her name was Sera."

The girl shook her head, "But that's... That's my name," She slurred.

The Queen smoothed her hands over her forehead and kissed her cheek, "Of course it is, love. If we don't hurry, the man will come back, and you'll never meet your King."

Sera straightened and grabbed the Queen's arm, "Please don't let him find me. He did such horrible things!"

The Queen pulled her "daughter" into a tight hug, "He won't, love. I promise you." She smiled lazily to herself as Sera quivered and sobbed in her arms.

"I won't let him."

oooOOOooo

The transformation from owl to man was fluid as Jareth landed in the heart of the orchard. His cape billowed behind him as he began to stalk through the trees. There was magic here. The thick sort that coated his tongue with bitterness and bad memories.

_She_ was doing the trespassing.

After five minutes of hunting, his search turned up empty handed. He scanned the trees one more time with owl eyes before turning to walk to the great gate that lead to the rest of the Labyrinth. His boot landed on something soft and he almost stumbled.

It was a half-eaten peach.

He began to swear darkly.

_I... I can't live... within... you..._


	15. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed so far - it helps keep the gerbils moving.

And now, for something completely different...

**Fable**

Magic, one finds, is very similar to painkillers, narcotics, and porn. The more often one utilizes it, the more is needed the next time to achieve the same effect as previous. Or, in more lyrical terms...

"I used to do a little, but a little wouldn't do it, so a little got more and more."

So really, it should have been no surprise when Karen started asking questions.

At first, it was easy enough to just give her a chaste peck on the cheek and reassure her that her fears were, in fact, without basis and, "Of course that outfit doesn't make you look fat, dear. And just what do you mean you should just slap a 'wide load' sign on your ass? I'm afraid I don't understand..." When, 'Yes, you do look like a cow wrapped in a terrifying combination of silk and polyester colored with what could only have been a paste made of fermented yams and lavender. You clearly were on opium when you decided to wear that out of the house and I wash my hands of the atrocious thing entirely.' was a more... honest... answer.

As time passed, the little white lies needed a bit more punch, this time consisting of the aforementioned peck on the cheek combined with a reassuring tuck of stray hair behind the ear. "No, darling, I'm sure that no one thinks you're a harlot for running out on your husband and leaving the children behind while you go out gallivanting across the countryside with a virtual stranger. Who would say that? ... Well, Mary doesn't know left from right, and you shouldn't worry about what the neighbors think anyway."

Then a quick squeeze to the hand, "Glitter? Where? I didn't see any glitter. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light. Are you sure you are feeling well?"

He took to holding her hand, or touching her arm, for longer and longer intervals, as the lies began to get more complicated, "No, dear, I'm sure the garden gnome didn't wink at you."

Or, "Why would you think that a water sprite witched your laundry? That blouse always had that stain on it. Besides, green and purple go very well together, don't you think?"

And even, "You aren't going crazy, dear. I promise."

It was easier to keep her under control whenever she visited him Underground, so he kept her there as long as he could. Magic there was as common as water, and there was nothing that she could come in contact with that would break his spells. Just dining with her helped keep her docile and dumb.

But, unfortunately, humans have an annoying little trait that he forgot to keep in mind. A silly little thing that helps them to absorb the uncanny and the unlikely without batting an eye. Something that helps them internalize and, more importantly, _ignore _the effects of magic better than any other species.

Humans, much to Finvarra's dismay, have iron in their blood.

As a result, no matter how many grapes and star fruits that he finger fed her; no matter how many times he guided her from a room by the elbow, magic bleeding from his fingertips; no matter how long she slept in his bed of phoenix down – the effects would wear off eventually and she always went back to those bloody questions.

It didn't help that the blasted woman was on vitamin supplements, either. Doctor's orders, of course.

The insufferable, infuriatingly sensible-

He could just _spit_.

"Finn?"

She was already working her way through the initial enchantments he placed on her when he first put his half-cocked plans to capture her stepdaughter's imagination in place. He'd had to redirect her attention from the pixies living under the back porch at least five times now – and it was only going to get worse and worse as she continually metabolized his power.

"Finn!"

Then there was what he liked to refer to as the 'Breakfast Assassination Device' that she was so fond of using. If he could only touch that damn skillet, it's life would have been over long ago. Instead, every bloody day that he suffered through existing in the Above, he was forced to watch in horror as she'd poison the bacon and eggs and call it _cooking_.

"FINN!"

He jumped in his seat, plastering a wide grin to his face and hoping that the madness that the human woman caused didn't show in his eyes. Karen scowled at him, propping her hands on her hips threateningly.

"Were you listening to me?"

Finn sighed, ultimately resigning himself to the fit that was inevitably about to be thrown, "Of course I was listening, dear. I'm always listening. Why wouldn't I be listening?"

She eyed him skeptically for a moment before holding up the dresses she still held one more time, "So which one do you think?"

"Think of what?"

"I _knew_ you weren't listening!"

The woman plowed through nonsense like a bloody elephant, tearing it up by the roots and tossing it to the side. She was a virtual black hole of the imagination.

She was a _mature, responsible adult._

Karen threw her hands up in defeat, fabric flying with the motion, "I give up. You men are all the same. Forget I said anything." She stormed back to the wardrobe and began to shuffle between gowns with more force than necessary. He leaned back in the upholstered seat, shutting his eyes and letting his head loll back.

She was going to be the death of him. He just knew it.

"Darling, it's only a small dinner affair. Whatever you wear will be lovely."

"The last time you said that, I underdressed. The time before that, I overdressed. I'd _appreciate_ it if you could give me a touch more of an idea of what to wear other than continually repeating that it's _just_ a _small dinner affair_."

"Why don't you wear the red one?"

"It's too low of a cut. I don't want to be worrying about falling into the soup."

"The blue?"

"It's tight in the shoulders."

"That- burgundy/magenta thing?"

"No."

"What about that black one?"

She gave him a black look that matched the dress, "I thought you said it was just a small dinner affair."

Oh yes. Definitely the death of him.

He pushed himself to his feet and strode purposefully to the human, adjusting his gloves. Karen didn't notice when he slunk quietly behind her, being preoccupied with digging through her chest of drawers. It was only when firm fingers took hold of her shoulders and began to knead the tight muscles there that she finally relaxed with a contented sigh. Finvarra smiled thinly to himself. The quiet was a welcome one, considering he was going to feel the drain in the morning.

"You worry too much." He continued his work on relieving the undue stress until she finally turned of her own accord, smiling that doofy little smile she always did when she thought he really loved her. Carefully keeping his eyes pleasant and face bright, he leaned down that little ways and planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

Or at least, that was the plan.

Instead, she anticipated his move and turned just enough to change what was supposed to be an innocent gesture of fondness into a full-on, head-grabbing, mouth-bruising smackaroo.

And it _burned._

His eyes bugged and he struggled to remove her vise-like grip on the side of his head, finally jerking himself free after a few moments. Karen looked up at him with confusion painted across her features as he took a few steps backward, willing himself not to claw at his face.

"What's wrong?"

He coughed, "Oh, nothing, really... uh, did you just take your vitamin?"

"Yes... why?"

He coughed again, trying not to drop to his knees and start retching. That would really kill the moment, "No... (cough)... reason." And as luck would have it, a tiny silver bell began to trill for attention.

The sound drew Karen's attention as Finvarra continued to try and keep himself composed and upright.

"What's that noise?" A knock on the door, followed by a small girl opening it slightly and poking her head in, compounded her curiosity, "Who is _that_?!"

"Sir?" The girl ventured, "There is a message for you in the Great Hall..."

"Thank you, Laurel, I'll be right there," He scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, taking long strides across the room. Karen was too quick for him, heading him off at the pass and physically putting herself between him and the door.

"Where are you going? What's going on? Finn, that's girl's ears are _pointed!!_"

Inwardly, he flinched. He had already invested a great sum of magic in keeping her subdued already, and it seemed that the day was just beginning. Outwardly, he forced another smile, which he was pretty sure just ended up being a demented smirk and caressed the side of her panicking face. Her gaze was forced into his own and he made himself stern.

"There's nothing wrong, dear. Why don't you get dressed for dinner?"

Her eyes glazed for a moment, then refocused with alarming clarity, "Finn," She hissed, "If you don't tell me what the _hell_ is going on this _very_ instant I _swear _I'll-"

Collapse.

Finn released a relieved breath of air. If he had to stare her down any longer, he was afraid he would start twitching. It was a miracle that her husband had put up with her for as long as he did, really. She was really getting to be too much. He motioned to her crumpled form carelessly, "Put her to bed."

The girl nodded quietly and moved into the room as Finvarra made his exit. The tunnel was well lit (or at least as well lit as an unhealthy amount of glowing fungi in a cavern can be) as he made his way to the Great Hall. The dirt floor was firm, yet spongy and the air was moist. Too moist. He frowned. If it was allowed to continue, they'd be picking mold from their _teeth_.

He made a mental note to arrange for a handler to take one of the more compliant dragons for a walk. There was nothing like a good blast of superheated halitosis to bake the hell out of the air and lower the percentage of spore-induced sneezing fits that simply could not be tolerated. He was the bloody King of the bloody Fairies, after all, and Kings of Fairies _do not_ show weaknesses that are as silly as allergies.

Which he did not have, of course.

The Hall was cleared, for once, eerily quiet in its emptiness. The twin thrones sat tall and cold just off center of the cavern, a reflecting pool situated at their foot. It was to this pool that Finnvarra made his way, avoiding the sticky spots on the stones. A simple hand gesture resulted in the appearance of a rather irate Goblin Queen in the silver water.

"You kept me waiting," She hissed, "I don't like to be kept waiting."

"I had business. Do you have the girl?"

To Finvarra's greatest irritation, the woman became playful, "Maybe I do and maybe I don't..."

"A straight answer if you please."

"You never were any fun, Little King," Green eyes darted to the side, observing something that he could not see, "That is why it was terribly entertaining to defy you."

"A straight. Answer."

"We shall arrive at Knockma upon the morning. I expect you to keep your end of the bargain," Her voice grew steely, "Else I should peddle my wares elsewhere."

His eyes narrowed at her and she broke the surface of the puddle she was using with a open-palmed slap.

Lovely. Progress was such a beautiful thing. He cracked a knuckle and smiled with one canine glinting promisingly.

Yes. This would work out well.

"Finn?"

If she didn't kill him first.

oooOOOooo

Reference: Guns 'n' Roses - "Mr. Brownstone"


	16. Chapter 15

A/N: Sorry this took so long, but life has a funny way of throwing curve balls. It's a really short one (I wanted to get to the point and move on) and I had to drag it kicking and screaming to where it is now (hence the fact that it isn't the best, either), but hopefully this will help get me on track and get the ball rolling again. Thank you for your patience!

**Fable**

By dwarfish standards, Mathilde was considered a great beauty and a fine catch. With her ruddy "I've-been-slaving-in-the-kitchen-all-day" complexion paired with her naturally grey hair – which she normally sported in a thick plait that hung down her back - any dwarf male would find himself mid-double-take as she walked past. The way her favorite apron set off her plump, matronly figure was enough to make 'em drool. She had Mama's recipes down pat, and could tell if a person took coffee or tea with just a glance from those watery blue eyes.

Add in the fact that she was a dead shot with a skillet and you had one steamy, drop-dead gorgeous sexpot.

Fights were a common occurrence whenever she was around, mostly initiated by suitors kicking the teeth out of any other potential suitors who happened to look in her direction at the wrong moment, followed by other suitors kicking the teeth out of the suitors who started it, just for being one of her suitors.

But that was before she settled down.

Mama had wanted her to marry well, preferably to a miner or a politician, since they both had the reputation for being notoriously wealthy – the miner by pocketing smaller bits of gold on the job, and politicians for knowing how to use a golden tongue. Father wanted her to marry one of his clients' sons in order to cement a budding partnership in the blacksmithing business.

Neither of them were happy with her final decision.

Currently, she was taking slow, measured drags on her cup of steaming coffee and watching the hands of the small clock that hung above the front door tick back the time. Her husband should be home any minute, she mused, purposefully inhaling during the start of each drink, making a disconcerting gurgling noise. It was a good thing, too, because she had more than a bone to pick with him. She had the whole damn skeleton.

After seventy-five years of mostly happy matrimony, she liked to think that she knew him well enough to sense whether or not he was up to no good. Not that he was ever the type to charge out the door looking for it, but for all the times that he had ended up in the thick of trouble lately... she was beginning to suspect that he was starting to _like _it. She was still washing the stains out of his good trousers after the last... incident, and she was starting to run out of lye.

Maybe Mama was right. She should have married a miner. At least they had plausible explanations for why their newest leather jerkins had suddenly died a slow, blackened death within fifteen minutes of wearing it. Gardener, he may be, but she doubted that he liked rolling around in dirt _that _much.

The handle turned slowly and she watched it carefully, taking another draw on her coffee and kicking her feet idly. She was really getting tired of this. The way the door was creaking open and he peered around the corner was more than enough indication that whatever he did outside their little thatched cottage was _not_ something that she would approve of. His vest looked at her sheepishly as he eased the door closed, trying so hard to not make a sound.

She cleared her throat and he jumped nearly three feet vertically.

When he whirled to see her sitting comfortably in his easy chair, his eyes went as wide as dinner plates and he started stammering. She smiled quietly at him.

"Welcome home, dear," She took another sip of coffee, "How was the market?"

"Well – I uh..."

She interrupted him, "Did Fern say anything about the broom?"

"Uh... Yeah! Yeah, she said..." His forehead scrunched up in the most adorable manner, reminding her why she said yes the day he awkwardly stumbled up to her on the street with a wilted daisy and asked sheepishly if she'd marry him, "She said that she could fix it pretty easy an' that-"

Never mind the fact that he was lying through his teeth, "Hoggle, the broom is still on the dining table."

He blanched, "Er... it is?"

"Yes. It is."

"Oh."

The mug was empty, "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere." Mathilde rolled her eyes at the quickness of the answer and pushed herself to her feet.

Trundling into the kitchen, she carefully placed the mug on the tiny counter and started to pump water into the basin. Hoggle was hot on her tail.

"C'mon, 'Tilde. Please don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're disappointed in me."

She turned on him, "And just why am I not supposed to be disappointed in you?! You haven't told me the truth since you became friends with that girl! Dammit, Hoggle, I'm your _wife_. We should be able to trust each other, but I can't help but think you've turned into a stranger!"

"Don't say that! I-"

"You _what_, Hoggle? _Where were you today?_"

He stared at his feet, "I can't tell you."

Mathilde sighed. It had been like this for close to the last thirteen years. Seemed that he couldn't tell her anything anymore. Maybe Mama was right about him. It was the helplessness of his tone that derailed that train of thought.

"I can't tell you now, but I promise," He looked her in the eye then, and her heart did a little flip-flop – there was the dwarf that she loved, "I promise I'll tell you when I can."

Mama was wrong. Coward he may be on the outside, but inside there was a heart that was worth more than any amount of pilfered gold. And that was why she was proud to say she was his.

She gave him a whiskery kiss on the cheek, "Thank you. I was starting to worry."

"R-Really?"

"The hens are laying hard again."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, "_AGAIN_?"

She harumphed and busied herself with the basin again, "You said it yourself the other day. These are strange days. S'only natural that the chickens would pick up on it."

"You sure that no goblins been botherin' 'em?"

"The fence is still firm. What do you think is-"

There was a knock at the front door. Hoggle blanched. They stood staring at eachother in confusion for a moment before Hoggle turned to answer the second knock.

She followed him to the living area, drying her hands on a dishtowel. She could see his large hands shaking from her vantage point across the room and it only made her more curious as to who their unexpected visitor was.

The human boy was the last thing she expected. Hoggle's jaw had dropped and his arm raised of it's own accord, pointing in disbelief.

"Um..." The boy started quietly, "I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm really lost. Do either of you know the way to the center of the Labyrinth?"


	17. Chapter 16

**Fable**

_He had been searching for days – feeding his mistress sugar-coated lies about his whereabouts and entering the Above under the cover of night. The land had changed drastically in his absence, making his quest all the more difficult, but he stubbornly continued onward; determined to find her. Memory guided his feet as he crossed the green countryside. With eyes closed, he let his senses take him where they would. Soon enough, he stumbled upon a homestead that was as familiar and alien as his own heart._

_The small cottage they had called home was rotted and empty; no more than a few planks of wood haphazardly leaning together. A morbid feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he walked the overgrown path toward the structure. Carefully, he rested his hands on what was left of the door frame and leaned to view the stripped interior. What was left of the old furniture was charred; ceiling collapsed. Birds and small vermin nested amongst the rubble._

_His careful examination of the rest of the area was just as disheartening. The small chicken coop he built for her had been pulled down. Weeds overtook the gardens. Ever so slowly, the tiny homestead was being reclaimed by wilderness and forgotten. He reached out with magic, attempting to find any trace of the family he knew once lived on this neglected land, but there was nothing. With a heavy heart, he began the long walk down a familiar dirt road, hoping against hope that the village he once served was still intact._

_He was surprised to find that it was more than intact – but thriving. The streets had been cobbled and houses were replaced with more lasting stone structures. People hurried by with paper-wrapped packages, barely giving him notice. A few mechanical beasts rumbled down the alleys, honking odd tones at the people who happened to stand in the wrong place at the wrong time – shooing them out of the way._

_His attempts at questioning the townsfolk was ill-received, with most avoiding him and the strange awkwardness that he exuded. Desperately he grasped at elbows, begging attention and asking the same question over and over with the same quietly horrified response._

_It was a quiet old man that finally gave him what he wanted._

_"Now, that's a name I haven't heard in a long time."_

_A surge of relief washed through his body, "You know her?"_

_"Oh, yes. I remember," The man stroked his white mustache thoughtfully, "She used to keep an eye on me an' Sal whenever Mam would go to market. But that was a very long time ago," He chuckled, "I dropped a toad on her once, just to make her jump. She had nerves of steel, she did."_

_The man clapped him on the back, "Ah, well. These aren't stories for a cold street. Come, my home is nearby and the kettle should be on the boil."_

_He had no choice but to follow._

_He was treated to tea and blackberry scones and waited impatiently for the old man to join him in the sitting room. _

_"Please, I have to know where she is. If she's well."_

_The old man sighed and eased himself into an over sized leather chair, "I'm sure that she's more than fine where she is now. She's more than earned it – lived a tough life."_

_Hope turned to dread as the man related her story to him. How her first husband abandoned her while pregnant. How the townspeople wrote her off as insane as she stumbled into the village babbling about a great maze and a cruel Queen. How she sought her happiness with another man. How she married him and found herself abandoned again – this time for a bottle._

_"It was a shame really. She was so young."_

_It was with lead feet and a heavy heart that he left the town, following the directions the old man had given him. They led to a grove of trees far off the beaten path. The spot was a lovely one, and he absently thought that she would have like it there. Between two of the younger trees, a stone was placed. Birds called in the distance as he approached._

_She was dead._

_The grass was soft against his knees, staining them a vibrant green. His feathered cape floated gently around him on the breeze, billowing lightly in a way that contrasted starkly with the broken man it embraced. Shakily he pulled off his gloves to trace the inscription, unable to accept that which was right before him._

_His wife. His heart. Was dead._

_He was too late._

_Despair turned to fury as the situation began to dawn in his mind. Rage at the woman who took him away and stole the life he had dreamed of away from him. _

_And in that moment, he was lost. He threw off the trappings of a mortal man and became a god. Too long those he loved had been tossed about like refuse. Too long he had been captured inside a gilded cage. Too long he had been treated less as a man and more as a hobby._

_No more._

_He had lost everything. His home. His family. His future. _

_There was nothing left to lose, and everything to take. He would fight. He would steal. He would murder._

_For once in his life, he would get what he wanted, and anyone or anything that got in his way be damned._

_And what he wanted, was freedom_.

_A firm hand on his shoulder caused him to snarl, but it held firm. Finvarra grinned humorlessly down at him._

_"I see we have an accord."_

_Jareth shoved the other man's had away from himself, standing in one liquid movement, "You have no right to be here."_

_The Fairy King crossed his arms across his chest in amusement, "And you do? It seems a very unbecoming thing for a Goblin King to be so undone at a human's grave."_

_His eyes narrowed, "You would do well to keep her out of this."_

_"As you wish. But it does nothing but prove to you what a meddling bitch your mistress is."_

_"She is not my mistress."_

_Finvarra bared his teeth, "Just what I wanted to hear."_

_It was sealed._

_And it was very soon after the Queen of the Goblins found her reign brought to an abrupt end..._

Long live the King.

--


	18. Chapter 17

**Fable**

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay, but what with all the stuff that I've been juggling, including but not limited to a full-time _and_ part-time job with the politics that come with, I just haven't been "in the zone" per se. For a while I even contemplated an ending that ran along the lines of...

**SARAH **(_pointing to a tied up Finvarra_): And then I realized that it was just mean, old Mr. MacGregor!  
**FINVARRA** (_has mask pulled off head_): And I would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for you meddling kids!  
**TOBY**: Zoinks!  
**JARETH:** Ruh Roh!

... but it gave me nightmares. So please forgive the slow updates, but I'm sure you know how life is. I'm still too involved with this story to give up on it, but I apologize in advance for the extremely spotty updates.

Once again, please forgive.

**oooOOOooo**

A few hours earlier...

Whatever Toby had been expecting in the way of magical transportation, a fairly solid feeling of _not moving whatsoever_ had not been it. In all the stories there had been winds, or glitter, or even that sickening feeling of your insides being put on display, rearranged, and then tucked neatly back inside your skin. There was supposed to be popping eardrums and motion sickness. Tumbling down a suspiciously large gopher-hole and eating marmalade kind of thing.

Instead, there was just darkness and insane cackling.

"You didn't really a'spect that to work now, didja?! Ah-hahahahahaha!"

The lights in the living room had flickered slightly before coming back to life. The goblin screeched and kicked it's feet from his seat on the stairway. Emma had looked at him helplessly while Dad still snored away.

It... didn't work?

The next attempt wasn't so confident. "I challenge the Labyrinth for the return of Sarah Williams... right now?"

"A-hahahaha! Stupid bighead! How's you s'posed to gettin' anywheres if you not know how?"

Emma tried to reach out and be the voice of reason, "Toby, maybe you should re-think this..."

"Bighead can't _re_-think if he don't think to start with!" Winchwick cackled, "'Sides, Bighead, might hurt hisself!"

"Shut up, you! You aren't making things any better here!"

And then he lost it.

He never thought it was going to be easy, but he didn't necessarily believe it was going to be particularly difficult, either. Just state your intentions in a clear and firm tone, and poof. Instantaneous. Right?

Instead, that _infuriating_ cretin on the stairs kept laughing and laughing and heckled him from where it's head was wedged in the banister while Emma kept trying to tell him not to do it and he finally just got so _sick _of feeling like an idiot that he charged after the goblin – fully intent to kick the stuffing out of him, and leaving Emma to yell after him from the living room.

Winchwick squawked and nearly took his own ears off yanking its head free. It made Toby feel a little better. But just a little.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs and screeched against the floor as a glimpse of tail betrayed the chasee's quick change of direction. If he thought that it was going to be that easy to lose him, Toby thought, the dratted thing more than deserved the smack down it was about to receive.

The door slammed itself open with the force of his entry. Only the flapping of the shower curtain betrayed the path of his prey, and without thinking, he threw it open and charged into the bathtub.

Instead, Toby's sneaker caught on a particularly lumpy bit of rock and sent him tumbling, head over teakettle, down a hill of spiny plants and glittery red dust. By the time he stopped rolling, he found himself lying flat on his back, staring at a sickly yellow sky that had not been there earlier. He blinked.

A quick check of his assets determined that he would be developing a rather nasty bruise, but was otherwise in good condition. Toby hoisted himself to his feet and dusted off the seat of his pants, studying his surroundings.

It was eerily quiet; no birds to speak of and no life to see – other than the previously mentioned plants that made a mess of his jeans. Up the hill, he could see a twisted trunk with what looked to be a dark blob positioned amid the winding branches. Behind him, a brick wall stretched ever higher – to the point where his neck began to violently protest its abuse.

There was no sign of the bathroom.

Toby refused to let himself panic. Sarah had told him enough stories of the goings-on in the Underground that navigating should pose no issue. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself. He just needed to keep his head on (literally, in some situations) until he could find a way in and then find Sarah. From there it was an easy trek through the unending hallways, down into an oubliette, through the lower passages filled with false alarms, around the hedge maze, through the Fiery Forest and the Bog of Eternal Stench, a quick jog past the Junkyards, down the streets of the Goblin City, and into the Castle. He had the path memorized. All he needed was just to find the door.

"Now then," He turned to face the wall, "If I was a gate, where would I be?"

He randomly chose a direction and began to walk along the wall, dragging his fingertips over the rough bricks. A half-hour passed before a particularly slimy patch made him remove his hand in revulsion.

It felt like an eternity before he saw the homely little cabin. It stood under a sturdy willow with a brightly painted door. Hope rose in his chest like a balloon as he practically ran to the building, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

Toby's heart pounded against his ribcage as he knocked, praying that someone was home who could help him find his way in. The door creaked inward, and his breath caught in his throat.

It was Hoggle.

It _had _to be Hoggle. Sarah had told him enough of the dwarf that Toby would be able to identify him in the dark. Behind him was a woman, who Toby couldn't identify. Maybe Sarah didn't know about her. However, the reaction that he got from the little man made him hesitate.

He dropped his head in embarrassment, "Um... I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm really lost. Do either of you know the way to the center of the Labyrinth?"

**oooOOOooo**

He gaped at the boy for a full minute before he finally found his tongue, "_YOU!!" _He sputtered, waving his finger wildly, "What are _you_ doing here?!"

Matilde hurried forward, tucking the dish towel she held into her apron and shoving her husband out of the doorway, "Hoggle!" She reprimanded, "That's no way to treat a guest!"

She smiled kindly at the baffled young man and cordially invited him in as Hoggle continued to stutter his protest. A pointed glare didn't exactly silence him, but it at least got him to quiet down.

Men.

Hoggle choked as Toby crossed the threshold into his home, "But, 'Tilde! He ain't allowed to be here!"

"And why not? He's obviously here now!"

"It's against the _rules_!"

Toby looked at him curiously as Matilde glared, "Hang your silly rules. What we have here is a boy who is lost and in need of some help, and I intend to aid him in any way I can!" She gave Toby another comforting smile, "Don't worry, dear. My _husband," _She spat the word with irritation and a meaningful look at the dwarf who was still mentally running in panicked circles, "Is the grounds keeper here. If there is anyone who could point you in the right direction, it would be him."

"But, 'Tilde!!" He could hear his blood pressure rising.

Matilde smiled placatingly and nonchalantly strode over to where Hoggle was almost at the start of a heart attack. Then, calm as could be, she reached up, grabbed his ear, and _wrenched_ it so that they were standing in a small huddle, away from the boy, "Hoggle, I have never turned away anyone who has come to my door and asked for help, _including_ the first day I met you and gave you a cup of sugar with three eggs, and I am not about to start now."

And with that, she released him and ushered the boy into the small kitchen to put the kettle on. He could only watch helplessly as yet another can of bog filth was opened in front of his eyes and spread all across his current predicament.

This would not end well.

**oooOOOooo**

Meanwhile, back at the castle...

Yellowed parchment unfurled in clouds of dust, papering the great table of the Dining Hall – consequently, the only table that was large enough for this purpose. Curled edges were hastily pinned with heavy pewter mugs. Goblins watched curiously from behind broken chairs (the mystery of their original breaking _still_ unsolved. Jareth had just looked at the damage, sighed, and informed them that was "why they couldn't have nice things" and left it at that) as said Goblin King shuffled through the stack and carefully laid them out across the wooden expanse. Every so often he's stop, frown, and turn a section a few degrees to the right or left and nod in satisfaction.

It was in this painstaking manner that the outline of the Labyrinth began to take shape in miniature.

It was the best method he could find. After all, ink and paper is light-weight and easy to handle, so while the real walls in one section would re-create their path, it was easy enough to just spell the ink likeness to change to match. The Goblin Queen had attempted to have a clay model created once, to better track her subjects, but the chaotic magic inherent in the twisted corridors wasn't amenable to being trapped and held – in any way, shape, or form. The resulting catastrophe was written into the Goblin History books very hastily indeed – then circled in red ink with thick capital lettering screeching "DO NOT WANT" in the margins. The room that housed the abomination was never the same after that, with no sense of up or down and staircases leading to nowhere, and stood as a testament of the "not wantness" of it all.

Paper was safer. If the Labyrinth didn't like it, there were random occurrences of spontaneous combustion – which was easy enough to clean up after and replace all the items damaged in process.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..." He murmured quietly as the last bits of what was essentially a giant puzzle fell into place and revealed a sight that only winged types were usually privy to. Long fingers flexed eagerly, and he snapped once, bringing walls of ink to life. Sheets of paper rose just enough to readjust their positioning to match what was being changed just outside before settling quietly back down amongst their brethren. The soft rustling continued as he stalked around the table, studying the map intently.

She had to be somewhere. Even for all her convoluted knowledge, she couldn't simply disappear. That was impossible – even for her. Not that she never tried.

After two full laps around the massive table, he paused, thinking hard. It would be beyond difficult for him to try to trace the arcane version of magic that the Queen chose to wield in order to discern her whereabouts. But Sarah...

That was the enigma of it all, was it not? He had _warned_ the girl not to meddle in the affairs of dragons, and yet she somehow ended up smack dab in the middle of the serpents' den. And for what purpose? The whole situation was built like a house of cards as it was, and somehow he felt he didn't want to know what would happen if he somehow sent the whole thing toppling to the floor.

But he could wax philosophical about all that later. Right now, the important thing was finding Sarah.

He sank down into the heavy chair that sat at the head of the table and steepled his fingers. For a moment, he was at a loss. How does one find someone who does not wish to be found? Interrogation of the Labyrinth's inhabitants had proved fruitless and now... time was getting short.

Across the room, a huddle had formed and loud whispers were being passed back and forth.

Because, you see, gossip makes the world go 'round. Many scientists will argue about centripetal force and gravitational pulls, but really – which is more interesting? Astrogibberish, or who-slept-with-who behind what's-their-name's back and now they're adopting a puppy?

Answer honestly.

Goblins are by far the _worst_ offenders. After all, the little scamps are king, queen, and jester at uncovering dirty laundry – both figuratively and literally. If there's a juicy tidbit within goblin earshot, you can bet the farm that it will spread like wildfire throughout the castle walls. Nothing makes a goblin happier – except, perhaps, spoiling the endings to movies, stealing socks from the dryer, moving sets of keys, spilling various liquids, unplugging alarm clocks...

Well, it's at least in the top ten.

And as of late, there was a particularly _ugly_ rumor flying around that had even the goblins uneasy. And if His Majesty had to kick everyone out of the dining hall to use his magic papers, then it was very very possible that the rumor was true. They watched as quietly as the could as His Majesty rose from the seat that he had just taken and held his hand over his magic papers.

He waggled his fingers gently, and crystals the size of marbles fell from his fingertips, rolling across the sheets of parchment and stopping at certain points on the image of their beloved Labyrinth. Red-rimmed eyes hung on to his every move as he scrutinized his work closely, frowned, and left the room hurriedly.

Without any one to watch as they did something decidedly naughty, a few of the more nimble goblins climbed to the table top, not minding the muddy footprints that they left on the map. A single tiny crystal was drawing circles in an area on the far side of the Labyrinth. But what _really_ caught their attention was the grouping of three that had been drawn to the entrance...

**oooOOOooo**

Disclaimer: No ownies.

5h1 n0 m1k0


	19. Chapter 18

A/N: The original has extreme right alignment for the text in bold, and extreme left alignment for the italicized text. Unfortunately, FFnet won't let me use my left alignment, and it just looks funny without it. :( Bah. So much for my experiment.

**Fable**

**Insects sang in the night,**

**casting a spell of **

**serenity**

**over the land.**

"_Traitor!" The Queen screamed _

_as she was dragged down the steps of her _

_Castle and thrown to the dirt _

_at the foot of the Goblin City,_

"_Fiend! Useless Scum! I shall see you pay!"_

_Jareth said nothing as the _

_Sidhe guards surrounded the woman, keeping her from _

_reaching their king and his companion. She spat _

_and _

_seethed, _

_clawing_

_at thick armor with broken fingernails. _

_He could see the blood on her fingertips._

_Few of the braver _

_goblins watched the scene from behind _

_the rickety huts that signaled the beginning of the city._

_Finvarra lazily unrolled a parchment and handed it to a portly figure, _

_crossing his arms and smirking down at _

_the crazed being that he had cornered. _

_The man cleared his throat twice, thick white mustache _

_twitching underneath a reddened nose._

_"His Majesty, King of Fairies, Gate Keeper_

_and Guardian, hereby decrees the land of the Labyrinth_

_and its Goblin peoples under his jurisdiction and rule. The creature known_

_as the 'Goblin Queen' is henceforth removed_

_from her station, _

_stripped _

_of her title and_

_exiled _

_to the __Labyrinth _

_indefinitely. _

_The man known as Jareth is hereby _

_granted the title 'Goblin King' and charged with the _

_task of guarding and maintaining _

_the land of the Labyrinth in His Majesty's _

_stead. So His Majesty has said, so it shall be done."_

_"You hear that, you stupid little gits," Finvarra _

_shouted at the goblins, who cowered at the sound of his voice,_

"_I'm the one who holds the power here! Your_

_precious Queen can't keep you any longer! _

_You have a_

_new _

_master _

_now!"_

**She woke with a start.**

**There was a particularly lumpy bit of ground **

**that was digging into her side and the **

**rock that had seemed ever-so-comfortable a moment **

**ago suddenly wasn't the ideal pillow. **

**Dragging a dirty hand across her eyes, she **

**rolled over and curled up on her other side, **

**trying to find a more suitable spot for **

**sleeping.**

_"Cozy, isn't it?" He laughed, "Now. Would you go left? Or right?"_

_"They both look the same."_

_"Well, you're not going to get very far now, are you?"_

_"Which way would you go?"_

_"Me? I wouldn't go either."_

_"If that's all the help you're going to be, you can just leave."_

_"You know what your problem is? You take too many things for granted. _

_Take this Labyrinth. Even if you get to the center of it, you'll never get out again."_

_"That's your opinion."_

_"Well it's a lot better than yours!"_

_"Thanks for nothing, Hogwart."_

_"Oooh, it's HOGGLE! And don't say I didn't warn you!"_

**It didn't help. Instead, she found herself **

**with a face full of flora **

**that would bend in the slight breeze just enough **

**to tickle her nose. **

**Defeated, she pushed herself up to a **

**sitting position. The moon **

**hung low in the sky, glaring down at **

**her with its menacing yellow **

**gleam and casting eerie brown-black **

**shadows across the rocky terrain. **

**She shivered a bit as some distant **

**screech was carried upon the breeze. **

**Her companion was sleeping **

**quietly nearby, head pillowed on **

**her bundled-up apron. For a **

**moment, she was jealous of the other **

**woman's ability to silence her mind **

**enough to get what little **

**much-needed sleep they could grasp. **

**Readjusting her form, **

**she tried once again.**

_Knock Knock _

_(That's dumb!)_

_Who's there?_

_(Won't play!)_

_Such pretty words his tongue does weave!_

_(If you like him so much why don't you marry him?)_

_Choked with Lies and Ash and Soot_

_she walks again walks again walks again walks_

_Blue Bells, Cockle Shells_

_Evey, Ivy_

_(Over.)_

**Her mind wouldn't stop. **

_"She took my name!" The little man wailed, "She took my NAME!"_

**She traced the stars.**

_"There's such a sad love – Deep in your eyes..."_

**She tried counting sheep.**

_"Avaa," she sing-songed, trailing her _

_fingers in the small puddle and _

_smiling at the ripples, _

"_Ava, Sweetling,_

_I know you haven't _

_forgotten_

_me..."_

**She half-sang what she could of a long **

**forgotten lullaby, **

**humming the melody **

**when the **

**words failed.**

"_Jack? Jack?! _

_Jack, wake up!!"_

**Her thoughts **

**whirred on **

**without her.**

"_Mama, why are you _

_crying?"_

**By the time the great white **

**barn owl **

**found them,**

**she was sobbing with **

**hysterics -**

**helpless against the onslaught of**

**voices that **

**clamored **

**for her **

**attention.**

**She didn't notice the smooth**

**transformation from **

**beast to man. Or**

**feel the warm leather **

**gloves against her bare forearms.**

**Or hear the comforting words that **

**were mumbled **

**in the **

**darkness.**

"_There's a leak somewhere. _

_I can feel it," _

_His eyes narrowed _

_as he purveyed his kingdom,_

"_The only question is, _

_where is it and _

_how did it get there?"_

"**Make it stop," She begged,**

"**Just make it stop."**

**He could only **

**hold her tightly**

**and stroke**

**her hair.**

_Cinderella,_

_Dressed in yella,_

_went upstairs to kiss her fella,_

_made a mistake and_

_kissed_

_a_

_snake,_

_how many doctors _

_did it take?_

"**What's happening to me?"**


End file.
